N9S 



HEBREW DRAMAS: 



ON INCIDENTS OF BIBLE-HISTORY. 



BY 



WILLIAM TENNANT, 

M 

PROFESSOR OF ORIENTAL LANGUAGES IN THE 
UNIVERSITY OF ST ANDREW'S. 




JOHN MENZIES, EDINBURGH: 
D. BOGUE, LONDON. 



MDCCCXLV. 



C 






EDINBURGH : MACPHERSON & SYME, PRINTERS, 
31 EAST ROSE LANE. 






CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER ; OR THE HEBREW HEROINE, 1 
ESTHER; OR THE FALL OF HAMAN, . . . .123 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 233 

ENVY— A FABLE, - 32o 



JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER, 



OR 



THE HEBEEW HEROINE 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



DRAMATIS PERSONiE. 



Jephthah, Son of Gilliad, Prince of Gilead, 
"^ Sholmi, his friend. 

Hanan, a Gileadite Warrior. 

Zelek, an Ammonite. 
* TiRZAH, Wife of Jephtliah. 
"^ Zebah, Daughter of Jephthah. 

Priest of Mizpeh. 

Hebrew Herald. 

Hebrew Prophet 

Nurse of Zebah. 

Choir of Gileadite damsels, companions of Zebah. 

Messengers. 

Sene lies in Mizpeh, in the Land of Gilead, beyond the 
Jordan, and in its neighbourhood of mountains and valleys 5 — 
partially in Rabbath-Ammon, capital of the Ammonites, east- 
Nvard from Mizpeh, towards the Arabian desert. 



* These three names marked * are arbitrary. They are Hebrew words 
havhiff significations suitable to the personages, — ShohTii, Man of my Peace-, 
— Tirzah, Pleasantness, — ^Zebah, Sacrifice, 



JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER. 



ACT I. SCENE I. 

Exterior of JepthaKs house in Mizpeh, 
Sholmi, Jephthah, Hanan. 

Sholmi. Hail, son of Gilhad ! 

Hanan. Welcome to the land 

O Jephtliah ! of thy fathers ! 

Jephthah. Peace be to you. 

My honoured countrymen ; for, by that name, 
Ye men of Mizpeh ! I rejoice again. 
After a long disunion, to address you. 

Sholmi. Thy country now, with reparation large 
And just, amends thy kinsfolks injuries. 
The wrongs inflicted by thy father's house 
Upon thy unreproached youth. 

Jephthah, These wrongs — 



B JEPHTHAH S DAUGHTER, 

be they all forgotten, and nought now 
Remembered, but past kindnesses and loves, — 
Sweet childhood's words, and sports, and tender 

thoughts. 
Of mother, father, sisters, brothers, friends, 
Grav'd deep upon the tablet of the heart. 
And now, in me, to sense more exquisite, 
Recaird, at sight of these, my former haunts, 
Where I was wont to play, a boy, — the court 
Whereon I practised my yet-tottering steps, — • 
The olive overshadowing it, whose tops 

1 clomb up in my hardihood, — the vines 
Girdling my father's casements with their long 
And luscious arms, on which the pruning-knife 
I learn'd, yet fearfully, to exercise ; — 

All these remembrances, which, in my walks 

O'er Ishtob's land, solac'd my solitude, 

Now freshen in my heart, and influence 

Mine eyes even to the tears ; — Alas ! why should 

These pure and tender impulses of soul 

Give place to harsher thoughts of unlike strain ? 

'Tis not for this — t' embrace my father's hearth — 

My father s people call me back to Mizpeh ; — 

War, horrid war ! — The Ammonite is up, 

And near ; — My country needs my strength of arm. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 7 

My war-encountering heart — The spear and shield 
For battle must be grasp'd. 

Sholmi. My lord ! the foes, 

(As thou in part hast been apprised already), 
Those children of Ben-Ammi, who, of old, 
Hir'd Beor's Son to curse us, have pour d forth 
From Rabbath-Ammon, their hill-citadel. 
Their troops by thousands westward o'er our WcA ;— 
From Jazer to the Tower of Penuel, 
From Ashdoth-pisgah north to Plavoth-jair, 
No sheepfold, fig-tree-field, corn-cover'd vale, 
Hath scap'd their devastation, as in bands 
Scouring they pass, and sweeping from their place 
The shepherd with his flocks, the husbandman 
Together with his harvest, vintage-men 
With their year's vintage ; — Mahanaim's pride 
Is trodden down by spoilers, — Rogelim 
Hath lost her people; — Minnith's wheat-rich plain 
Is scorched into blackness ; — Jabbok's stream, 
From Ramoth-Gilead to the Jordan's banks. 
Flows through a land of desolation, 
Of weeping mothers with their sons and daughters 
Clinging in terror round them ; — Bashan's plains, 
Gilead's green mountains, have their cry sent up, 
Demanding thee from Ishtob's sheep-brows'd land, 



S JEPHTHAH*S DAUGHTER, 

Their hero and their helper, — And, with God. 
Here standest thou again on Israers plains, 
Our hero and our helper ! 

Jephthah. With the name 

Of God upon our banners, and his arm 
As with a shield encompassing our heads 
In day of battle, Israel, let us trust, 
Will give his foes discomfiture ; — Meanwhile, 
And for this end, what lies in the arm of flesh 
Must be prepared, — the instrument, wherewith 
Man must be working, and which He on high 
Makes valid with his blessing ; — Have the tribes 
Assembled with their princes ? Muster they 
In Mizpeh's plains, or down upon the vale 
Of Succoth, or in Ephraim's green -wood field 
Near to the Jordan-ford ? 

Sholmi. My lord, the host 

Of Israel, quaking under Ammon's fear. 
Lies weak and incoherent, tribe by tribe, 
Sundered and kept apart by jealousies, 
Each in the covert of his own encampment, 
Unsociably shut up, prince envying prince, 
Chief counteracting chief, whereby the strength 
Of Israel, all dismembered and detached, 
Is scattered and consumed ; — The Reubenites, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



Numbering twelve thousand warriors, wlio obey 
Abiel their tardy prince, have pitched their tents 
'Tween Medeba and Heshbon, where they skulk, 
Awaiting till the roaming Ammonite 
Come down to burn with fire their villages. 
The sons of Gad, that, in their number, reach 
To twice ten thousand, spread their broken bands 
From Debir's border to Beth-ammon's vale. 
Amid whose bushy hollows camp'd they lie, 
Astonished at the foe's rapacity, 
And by his onset quaiFd, — their chieftains slain, 
Their pride of heart confounded ; — over them 
Gareb, the son of Hashem, rules, a prince 
Fearful, and yet untaught the rule of men. 
Manasseh's tribe, the Geshurites, and sons 
Of Bashan, and Mount Gilead, those who dwell 
In fenced cities, villages, and folds. 
From Shenir and the Jordan's founts, to where 
The Jabbok westward rolls his winding wave, 
Lie here encamp'd, our Gilead's sole defence, 
In Mizpeh ; — See the white pavilions pitched 
Of these our shepherd-warriors, on the slope. 
In rows down stretching from the city- wall 
Unto the Jabbok's olive-fringed lip. 
These in their various companies and troops. 



1 JEPHTHAH^S DAUGHTER, 

Do greet, Prince, thy coming ; and await 

Their time and their appointments from thy word ; — 

We under thee, each in our place, subserve. 

Jephthah. O friends ! let us forestall the prowl- 
ing foe, 
And, ere he wist, transfer the wasting war 
To his own realm, where now he scornful sits 
Upon his hill of Rabbah, eating up 
The spoil of Israel. For achieving this 
More perfectly, let messengers be sent 
To Gareb, Ha^shem's son, and Abiel, 
With notice of our purpose, and request 
That, with the troops of Reuben and of Gad, 
They meet us speedily upon the plain 
Abel-ceramim ; thence, conjoin d to march 
Against the mountain people, that rejoice 
In their despite against the land of Israel. 

Sholmi. My lord, these orders shall be straight 
performed ; 
I to the Gadite will dispatch a post;. 
To call them upward from Beth-aram*s vale. 

HANi^N. And I shall by intelligence excite 
The tardy Reubenite, t' unpitch, and leave 
His bootless ambuscade near Heshbon's wall. 

Jefhthah. Then go, my lords, and prosper. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 11 

SCENE II. 

Chamher of JejjJithah* s hoicse. 

Enter Jephthah {cirined^ iclio doffs his helmet on 
entrance)^ Zebah, Tirzah. 

Zebah. So soon, dear fatlier ! to depart from us 
For the war-jSeld ? 

Tirzah. And ere thou hast had time 
To breathe from heat of journey, or to make 
Thy courts in Mizpeh, and thy househokl-chamber 
Familiar to thy soul ? 

Jephthah. My spoused wife ! 

My daughter ! dearest to mine eyes ! — O now 
Father and spouse must be a while put off. 
And, in their stead, the warrior be put on ! 
My country calls me ; 'tis to fight for Israel, 
Her grey-hair' d men, her widows, mothers, daughters, 
Her babes and fatherless, that I forsake 
My best-belov'd, for the tumultuous field 
Where battle rages ; — 'Tis that peace again 
May bless our Jacob ; that the virgin's song, 
The shepherd's pipe, the bridegroom's evening harp, 



12 jephthah's daughter, 

Eacli utterance of a land's felicity, 

May yet be heard, in mingled consonance, 

On Gilead's mountains and on Bashan's plains ; 

O, 'tis for this that I abandon thee ; 

My wife ! and thee my daughter ! — God again. 

The God of battles, in his gracious love. 

Will bring me back ! 

TiRZAH. May Israel's saviour 

Cast down the host of strangers with the sword 
Of those that love him, and that guard the widov/ 
And virgin from their ruthless ravagings ! 

Zebah. And may my father to his home return, 
Glad in the rich spoils of his enemies. 
And shouting gratulations of sweet joy ! 
For me, till his return, my task shall be 
To braid, and broider, and set up with gold 
A chaplet, which may ready be to deck 
His warrior-brow, as to our gates again 
He comes rejoicing in his triumph back. 

Herald {who enters), 
O Prince of Israel's armies ! Put thou now 
Thy helmet on ; take up thy spear and shield ; 
And, as a giant, gird thee for the war ; 
The hosts stand congregate on Mizpeh's plain, 
Awaiting thee to head them : — All the sons 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 1^ 

Of Gad, tlieir hundreds and their thousands, joined 
By Eeuben's warriors now with speed arriv'd 
From Heshbon, rank upon the vineyard-plain, — 
Thither the shepherd- warriors, Gilead's men, 
Hurry to mingle with them, and complete 
Israel's collected army, ardent all 
T' o'erpass the Jabbok, and invade the land 
Of Ammon's robber children. 

Jephthah. Israel calls, 

Nor brooks my longer tarriance. — Now farewell, 
My wife ! My sweetest child ! Farewell ! May God 
Make us all meet again in happiness ! (Kisses them)-, 

TiRZAH. Farewell, mine honour d lord ! 

Zebah. God go with thee, 

O, father, and triumphant bring thee back ! 



SCENE III. 



A spot on the Banks of the Jabbok^ comma^iding a 
view of the armies marching, 

Hebrew Ppophet (addressing them)^ 
March on, thou son of Gilhad ! Thou that, long 



14 JEPHTI1AH*S DAUGHTER, 

An exile from thy fathers house, art now 

Returned, a shield of help to Israel, 

March onward in thy mightiness ! Draw near 

To battle ; order thou the legions forth ; 

Furbish the spear ; put on the brigandine ; 

Make red the shields of all thy yaliant men ! 

For lo ! the day of vengeance comes, the day 

I'Yhen Israel shall avenge him of his wrongs. 

And satiate and make drunk his sword with blood 

Of those that rendered desolate his land ! 

Howl, city on the hill ! For thou art taken ! 

City of waters 1 Howl, for thou art spoii'd ! 

Daughters of Rabbah! cry; gird ye with sackcloth; 

Lament ; run by the hedges to and fro. 

With shrieks of lamentation, for all joy 

Is perish'd from your streets, the voice of mirth. 

The voice of bridegroom, and the voice of bride ! 

*Tis come — the day of bloody recompence ; 

Of dreadful tribulation to the troublers ! — 

O thou backsliding daughter ! that hath clapp'd 

Thy hands, and stampM with thine insulting feet 

So long at Israel, wherefore gloriest thou 

In the strong fortress of thy mountain- walls. 

And in the valleys, the long flowing valley, 

Spread at thy feet, rich overclad with vines ? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 15 

Behold upon thee there is brought a fear ;•— 

As thou hast drunk the milk, and ate the fruits, 

Of Gilead, and of Bashan, so thy grapes 

Shall be consumed, thy flocks and herds shall be 

Scattered, and rapt away with violence ; 

The hosts of God surround thee ; thou art fallen ! 

So perish in their wickedness the wicked 1 

So perish all thine enemies, O Israel ! — 

March onward, then, thou Chief of Princes ! — yet, 

O Son of Gilhad ! take thou heed — beware — 

Lest the unweigh'd pronouncing of thy lips 

Entangle and perplex thy soul with snare ! 

'Tis done — thine unadvised lip hath spoken !— 

A mighty stone of trial waits the mighty ! 



SCENE IV. 

A Situation hefore the Armies. 

Sholmi, Zelek. 

Sholmi. Here let us stand, my lord ! here hold 
our parle, 
Ere th* adverse armies join the battle -shock ;— 



16 jephthah's daughter, 

My prince, the head of Israel's hosts, hath sent 
Me as his mouth and his ambassador, 
To ask thy lord and master, Ammon s king, 
Why, as a prowler, he, by night and day. 
Comes down to devastate our beauteous land, 
Ev'n as an evening wolf to raven there. 
To swallow up her substance, and to make 
Gilead and Bashan, and the shores of Arnon, 
A den of weeping, and a wilderness ? 

Zelek. I have an answer ready for my kiug;- 
The king of Ammon, an invader comes 
To fight against thee, and to plunder thee. 
Thee in thy land — ^because that land is his ; 
Because, when Israel out of Egypt came, 
Your roaming people spoil'd him of his soil, 
From Arnon north to Jabbok, from the stream 
Of Jordan to the eastern wilderness ; — 
Of all this land the Ammonite was robb'd ; — 
Therefore restore again, O Prince, in p^ace 
What thou unjustly has possessed thee of; 
And go — with thy proud brother, Ephraim, 
Bide thee beyond the Jordan. 

SiioLMi. Israel, 

When from the house of Egypt up he came. 
Took not the land of Moab, nor the land 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 17 

Of Amnion's children ; but possessed himself. 

By right of conquest, of King Sihon's land ; 

Because the Ammonite, contemning terms 

Of peace, assail'd him, unprovoked, with \rar 

Upon the field of Jahaz ; — Israel's God 

Did there deliver Sihon and his people 

Into the hand of Israel ; there our fathers 

Smote them in battle ; and, bj right of war, 

Possessed the land of those they overthrew, 

Now impotent to people and possess it. 

This is their right of occupancy ; this 

Their holding and their claim, confirmed and backed 

By a long tenure of three hundred years : — 

Let Ammon keep his own, that which his god 

Milcom hath given him ; that which Jacob's God 

Hath given us, we will fearlessly retain ; — 

Boasts Ammon's king to be of more account 

Than Balak, king of Moab ? Yet did he 

E'er strive with Israel, or dispute our right 

To cultivate, as ours, King Sihon's land ? 

Who, for three hundred years, hath e'er up-stirr'd 

That claim, now dead and futile ? 'Tis thy lord 

And master, that uow sins in stirring it. 

I have not sinn'd against thee : It is thou 

That dost me wrong, t' infest with war my land: — 

B 



18 JEPHTHAH*S DAUGHTER, 

The Lord, the Judge of all, be judge this day 
'Tween Israel's children and 'tween Amnion's children ! 

Zelek. If this is Israel's answer ; if instead 
Of restitution, peaceable and just. 
He meet King Nahash with such rude response, 
I, in my master's name, do now defy 
And dare him to defend, keep, vindicate, 
With his sword's edge, the land he occupies : 
Let then the approaching fight determine it ; 
And may the God, whose temple we behold 
On Kabbah's mountain, bless the Ammonite ! 

Sholmi. Thus be it, then— -according as the war 
Determines, be the justice and the judgment ; 
And may our God, whose temple is the Heaven, 
With his salvation bless the Israelite ! 



^SCENE Y. 

In front of the Hebrew A rmAj, 
Jephthah, Priest. 

Jephthah. Our bands are now all ready, at the 
sign 
Of trumpet-peal, to march against the foe; 



A DRAMxlTIC POEM. 19 

Approach, thou Priest of God, now to thy duty, 
Speak to the people, and encourage thou 
Their hearts to enter on the work of war. 

Priest (To the Army.) 
Hear me, O Israel ! v/hen I speak to thee 
Th' encouragement which comes to thee from God ! 
This day to battle 'gainst your enemies 
Ye here approach : Lo ! in close wedge of war 
Enrank'd, in number more than thou, they stand ; 
Thou seest their horses and their chariots, 
And all their glittering gallantry of war ; 
Thou seest their emblem, their gold-forged god, 
Before them as an ensign held on high, 
To which, as to a thing of life and power. 
The valiant men of Chemosh lift their eyes, 
And look for help ; — O Israel fear thou not. 
Let not your hearts be faint, and do not tremble, 
Nor be ye terrified because of them : 
For Jacob's saviour. He, that is more strong 
Than th' Ammonites' vain forgery of gold, 
The Lord your God, is he that goetli with you, 
To fight for you, against your enemies, — 
To save, and crown you in the day of war ! 

Jephthah (To the Army.) 
Warriors of Israel 1 To the fight advance ! 



20 jephthah's daughter, 

SCENE YI. 

An eminence near the Field of Battle. 

Sholmi, JEPH-mAH, Priest. 

Sholmi. The Ammonite is beaten, and is fled ! 

Jephthah. His stroDgest troop, that stood em- 
battled close, 
Fronting our men of Bashan and of Gilead, 
In the main passage, 'tween the vineyard-hedges, — 
Behold their scatter'd wreck and residue, 
Hurrying with furj and wild disarray, 
Up, up into their mountain-territory ! 
Chariots, and foot, and horsemen, w ith the sound 
Of whip, and rattling wheels, and stamping steeds, 
Tumultuous, mingled in their homeward rush. 
From Israel's sword pursuing ! — Stand, friends ! 
A while on this commanding hillock's top ; — 
Here let us stand, and breathe a moment's space, 
Scanning the ruin of the nearer field. 
And questioning with our eyes the farther region 
On right hand and on left, for visible sign 
Or demonstration, whereby we may learn 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 21 

The fate of Israel's two other bands, 
Posted V encounter Amnion's other hosts. 
For — to this place, a common point, the chiefs 
Of Gad and Reuben were enjoin'd to send 
To me the news of the divided war. 

Sholmi. Behold, my lord, a foot-fleet messenger 
Past posting hither from the south. — His mien 
Bespeaks important tidings thence. — 

1st Messenger* My lord ! 

The son of Hashem has enforc'd my feet 
To utmost speed, my tongue to faithfulness 
In its report : — Me he hath charg'd to say — 
The band of Amnion's children, that with front 
Of glittering and protruded spears, blocked up 
Passage to Israel on the southern road, 
No sooner felt the cutting stony shower 
Flung in their faces from ten thousand slings 
Whirl'd by the Gadite warriors overhead. 
Than back they slunk, stunn'd and astonished, 
With disembattl'd ranks all impotent 
To stand or grapple, in the farther fight 
With Gareb and his band of warriors. 
So, up the mountain -road I left them flying, 
Disbanded and disorder'd, every man 
His own commander, or commanded only 



22 JEPHTH All's DAUGHTER, 

By his own fear, tlmt spurs and urges him 
To 'scape the common death which, from behind. 
Comes dogging him into his mountain-house : — 
Israel hath conquered ! 

Priest. On the northern road 

A second post draws near. 

2d Mess. Mj lord, O Prince ! 

I come a messenger from AbieFs host, 
Charg'd to communicate to you the news, 
That in the more advanced and northern post, 
Where, near the Plane-tree, stood the Ammonite, 
Enrank'd with his ally, the Arab Zabdiel, 
Collected in their might, footmen, and horse. 
And chariots, to attack the Reubenite, — 
The battle in a moment, kindled up 
By sound of trumpets upon either side, 
Wax'd warm, and raged with havoc mutual, 
Alternating with onset and defeat ; 
Till, from his iron chariot, Zabdiel fell, 
Struck by a Hebrew archer ; on the which. 
The Arabians, smit with terror, took to flight. 
And, after them, partakers of th' alarm, 
Fled Amnion's children : — Israel straight pursued : 
He chas'd them up their southward winding vale ; 
He chas'd them up their westward winding vale ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 23 

Ev'n to their place, the City, called, of Waters, 

Beside whose plain, near to the river's edge, 

Their broken ranks they rally and collect, 

Around their king, who, with his chosen band 

Of spear-arm'd heroes, lion-like, and bold. 

There sits, the source and centre of the war. 

I saw him in his golden-harness' d chariot, 

High-seated, with his warriors gathered round, 

His kingdom's glory, and his pride of war, 

Boasting that, with their god Baal-peor's aid. 

They will defend their city, and repel 

Back from their gates, th' invasive Israelite : 

In this o'erswelling fit of confidence 

He opes his mouth in challenge, and defies 

To single fight the leader of the Hebrews : 

He cry'd out in our ears — 

" Before the gates of Rabbah be it fought 

Between us ; and if Ammon's king shall fall, 

Then shall his city be to Israel given 

A spoil and plunder. Amnion's sons and daughters 

Delivered up as captives to your hands ; — 

But, if my god shall glorify my spear. 

And give to Amnion's king the victory. 

Let Israel's cities, and let Israel's sons 

And daughters, be surrendered as a spoil, 



24 jeputhah's daughter, 

A prey and plunder to the conqueror ; — 
This is the proud defiance which he sends 
To Israel's hero ; and, through him, defies 
The God of Israel. 

Jephthah. In th' Almighty's strength. 

The God of Israel, I accept that proud 
And bold defiance : — on thy steps again 
Go back, and be the herald to declare 
My acceptation of his haughty summons. 
Bid him take up and grasp his spear : gird on 
His brigandine of brass, his plaited fence 
Of warlike harness, make him ready all — 
The Hebrew leader hastens to the fight, 
Before the gates of Rabbah, in the front 
Of Chemosh and his temple. 

Mess. At thy word, 

My lord, I speed me, with thine answer back, 
To the defying Ammonite. [_I)epart$. 

Jephthah (with eyes raised to heaven J 

O Thou 
My father's God 1 who hitherto hath blest 
Me and my people, in the day of war, 
Prosper thy pleasure in my hand, cast down 
The heathen boaster, that, with lying mouth 
Lifts up 'gainst Thee his idol-vanity^ 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 25 

And challenges thy glory and thy power ! 

O let the heathen know that thou art God ! 

Thine be the glory — let my right-hand be 

The instrument thou blessest for the work 1 

This is my prayer — which with a vow I crown ; — 

Be witness, priest of God ! to this my vow : — 

God ! if thou this day^ beneath my spear ^ 

Shalt humble the proud Ammo7iite^ and give 

His people as a prey into mine hands ^ 

Then it shall be^ that when /, from the war^ 

Return in peace^ whatever cometh forth 

To meet ms from the doors of mine oicn house^ 

Shall be the Lord's^ and I shall offer it 

For a burnt-offering up : — This be my vow 

Upon the eve of battle — iyi the hour 

Of preparation for the dreadful fray ! 

Priest. Mine ears bear witness to thy virtuous 
vow : — 
Earth doth record — accept it, gracious Heaven ! 



26 jephthah's daughter, 

ACT II. SCENE I. 

Jephthah's House m Mizpeh. 
TiRZAH, Zebah, Messenger. 

TiRZAH. Proclaimer of glad tidings ! welcome thou 
To Jeplithali's house, made happy by the words 
Of thy report ! 

Messenger. I do not come as charged 
By Israel's chief as special messenger 
Unto his house, but, as a private man, 
The first with news, come freshest from the host, 
I publish what mine eyes haye there beheld 
Of Jephthah*s victory. 

TiRZAH. Thou bear'st the marks 
Upon thy garments, feet, and countenance. 
Of rapid travel. — At what time didst thou 
Leave Israel's armies ? 

Mess. Ere the twilight fell 
Last night ; the sun was in his seaward stoop. 
Dipping his disk behind Mount Ephraim, 
When down tho Ammonites' long-flowing valley 
I 'gan my travel westward. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 27 

TiRZAH. And the hosts 

Of Israel then victorious stood before 
The gates of Rabbath- Amnion ? 

Mess. Rabbath's gates 

Had then been open'd ; all her bolts and bars 
Asunder had been riven, brought down, and broken 
To let the vanquisher of Nahash in. 
The son of Gilhad to the spoil. 

Zebah. My father 

Mess. He, prominent in prowess and in praise, 
Excelleth all the mighty — 

Zebah. Saw's t thou him. 

Amid his multitude of warriors 
Up-mounting to the fortress on the hill. 
Safe in his glory ? 

Mess. I beheld 

The prince of Israel's armies, in his glory 
Ascending from the death-field, where his spear 
Overthrew the king of Amnion. 

Tirzah. Of that field. 

Where Jephthah fought, and Ammon's monarch fell, 
Do thou, th' eye-witness of the deeds, relate 
To us, unknowing yet, eager to know. 
Each circumstance and feat, from the first sound 
Of clarion when the combatants engag'd. 



28 jephtiiah's daughter. 

To the last shout of triumph sent on high, 
Bj Israel's armies. 

Mess. To the house of Jephthah 

These glories appertain, and are become 
Its crown ; — 'tis then with joyous readiness 
He, who beheld, shall, what he saw, relate. — 
Israel's three bands, to different posts detach'd, 
From every post had driv'n the adversaries ; 
As these, toward their mountain-capital, 
Went flying, Israel followed in their rear, 
With arrow, sling-shot stone, and javelin. 
The routed troops, as nearer to the fort 
They drew, concentrated and form'd their ranks 
In one huge heaving mass around their king, 
Whose presence, in his chariot mounted high, 
Seem'd potent as a charm to re-enforce 
And rally for a space his stricken people ; — 
Yet did not Israel here relax his war ; 
But, gathering close, and thickening on the foe. 
Between the river and the fortress gates, 
Hemm'd them about with long-directed spears, 
As in an iron ever-narrowing circle. 
There stood king Nahash in his chariot up ; — 
And, with a desperate front, he uttered, 
Mix'd with reproaches and loud scoffing scorn, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 29 

Defiance unto Israel's God and Israel ; 
Extolling blasphemously his golden god. 
And challenging, in that his idol's strength. 
The Hebrew leader to contend with him 
In single combat, bow, or sword, or spear : 
Terror took all the Hebrews, when thej heard 
Th' insulting summons shouted from his lips ; 
Their mighty shrunk ; nor dar'd one undertake 
The proffer'd battle ; till at last their Prince, 
Arriving, in the front of all stood forth. 
And, on the terms proposed, did in the name 
Of Abraham's God, accept the controversy ; — 
Straight from his lofty chariot downward leapt 
The king in cuirass clad, and on with stride 
Mov'd, like a giant, to confront the man 
That dar'd t' encounter Ammon's champion. 
The trumpets straight were blown; the sign was given; 
And from the hand of Nahash liew the spear 
With iron fenc'd, and massy as the beam 
Of weaver ; — overhead it past — and sung 
Harmless — and hit not him 'twas aim'd to strike. 
Zebah. O thanks to Israel's God, by whose kind 
arm 
That meditated wound was turn'd aside ! 



30 jephtiiah's daughter. 

Mess. The son of Gilhad, then, with high-heav'd 
hand 
His javelin swung, and, May the God^ he crj'd. 
Of Ahrahmn make his servant* s weapon prosper ! 
It flew, and Nahash fell ; — a shout of joy- 
Rang from the Hebrew hosts ; a sullen sound 
Of murmur and incensement, ill-suppress*d, 
Spread through the multitude of Ammonites, 
Like southern whirlwind reeling round the tops 
Of Bashan's forests ; — Soon the wrath flam'd forth ; 
And in, amid the ranks of Israel, 
Came, like the rush of thunder, Ammon s chariots, 
With showers of weapons from a thousand hands. 
Then were the Hebrew warriors by that shock 
Enkindled up into a tenfold fury, ' 
And, with ten thousand vengeance- wreaking deaths, 
A bloody recompense they gave the foe. 
The foe or fell or fled ;— The City of AYaters 
Was taken ; and the brazen- valved gates 
Of Rabbath- Ammon, on whose mountain-height 
Towers Chemosh in his temple, up were dash'd. 
That Israel, with her prince, might enter in. 
I saw them enter ; I beheld the banners 
Of Jephthah borne sublime and pitched up high 
Upon the fort, and Chemosh and his priests, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 31 

With all the sons of Ammon, and their daughters, 
Caught in their hold, confounded, carry'd captive. 
Sunk, fall'n, before the might of Israel. 

TiRZAH. Thus hath Destruction seiz'd on the 
destroyer, 
Thus is the spoiler spoil'd : — Our God be prais'd 
For this his high salvation to our land ! 
Gilead's and Bashan's mothers now will sing 
For joy, their daughters now will all be glad, 
And Mizpeh's gates be lifted up, to let 
The prince of warriors in. — But, come, O thou 
Gladdener of Mizpeh, and of Jephthah's house ! 
Approach the fountain in the mid-court — there 
Wash thou from travel's dust thy feet, and take 
Rest and refreshment 'neath the olive's shade. 



SCENE II. 



Garden of JephtliaKs House. 

TiRZAH, ZeBAH. 

TiRZAH. Here let us sit, my daughter, underneath 
This fig-tree's shade, and in the evening's cool 
Enjoy to-day's glad tidings. 



32 ^ JEPIITIIAIl's DAUGHTER. 

Zebah. I have brought 

My psalt'ry to assist me, in my thoughts 
Of exultation, and of gratitude 
To Israel's God, for the high grace vouchsaf VI 
Unto my father's house. 

TiRZAH. Sing thou, my daughter ! 

Utter thy song to thy string'd instrument, 
In honour of thy father. Lo ! the night, 
Now drawing on, serene with all her stars, 
Seems in her clear, cool calm, to harmonise 
With the sweet breathings of thy pious spirit, 
And with thy harp's soft harmony. 

Zebah (Sings to the harp,) 
1. 
From where on Ammon's mountain-lands 
The City of the Waters stands. 
The spoiler like devouring flame, 
On Heuben and Manasseh came ; 
Rich Giiead's folds were swept away, 
And Bashan's beauty was his prey. 

2. 
The highways, where such throng had been. 
Without a traveller were seen ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 33 

The villages, on hill or dell, 
Had ceas'd, had ceas'd in Israel ; 
On Abel's plains and Ramoth's rocks, 
Were heard no bleatings of the flocks. 

3, 

In Sibmah's vineyards, where the sound 
Of happy men, late, rose around, 
There was no song of vintage-feast ; 
The wine-press-shouting all had ceas'd ; 
Heshbon did on her mountain mourn, 
And Elealeh wept forlorn. 

4. 
Oh 1 gladness, then, and happy day 
Were taken from our land away ! 
The heathen lords from Kabbah's town 
Our plants of Joy had trodden down ; 
T wail'd the woes, that then befell 
The mothers of our Israel. 

5 

But now a light hath come from God ; 
Israel's great champion is abroad ; 



S4 jephthah's daughter^ 

God hath to Mizpeh given again 
The hero, wish'd so long in vain ; 
He came ; he gathered Israel's bands ; 
He marched up the mountain-lands ; 

6. 
He fought ; he slew ; the bars he broke 
Of Amnion on his mountain-rock ; 
Baal-pcor's treasures up are riven ; 
Her priests and princes forth are driven ;- 
O Israel 1 bless and thank thy God ; 
Joy now in thee shall make abode 1 



SCENE III. 

The Fortress of Rabhah. 

Jephthah, Sholmi, Hanan, and other Chiefs. 

Jephthah. Has the foil'd foe been followed ? 
Sholmi. To his holds 

We have pursued him. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 35 

Han AN. To the Arnon's bank, 

And city in tlie middle of the river, 
The southern boundary of Amnion's realm, 
Our men of Geshur tracked him. 

Sholmi. Onward thence 

To Minnith and the streams of Dibon-Gad, 
The western bound of his unruly realm, 
Our men of Gilead, following him, have vexM 
His residue with deadly persecution 
At the spear's point : His twenty cities, spread, 
From Minnith to the stream-nurs'd Aroer, 
Have been subdued ; — our Israel now keeps 
Possession of their gates. 

Jephthah. And Rabbali's hill. 

The head and heart of Ammon's roving war, 
Now garrisoned by Gilead's valiant men. 
Remains secure to Israel ; all the gold, 
That dazzled Ammon's temple- worshippers, 
And their vain gods themselves, clamp'd up of gold. 
And burnish VI brass, Milcom and Chemosli lewd, 
Are spoird and carry'd captive ; Israel's horn 
With honour is exalted ; Ammon's lies 
Scatter'd and brought to nought; Nought then re- 
mains 

Yet to be conquer'd ; all the work is done, 



36 JEPHTHAIl's DAUGHTER, 

For which we overpass'd the Jabbok-stream. 
God hath been gracious to our grieved land, 
And, in proportion to our previous griefs. 
Hath multiply 'd our war's prosperities, — 
Since, then, the enemies are all dry'd up, 
Bootless were now the longer lingering 
To Israel's chiefs, now of the war discharged. — 
Hanan ! remain thou in the mountain-fort, 
With these thy Gileadites, their governor ; — 
Gareb 1 possess the cities in the plain ; — 
We, other chiefs, may to our household-hearths 
In peace retire ; and thence throughout our land 
Diffuse the circling joy, each from his house. 
As from a centre, till from coast to coast 
Israel's whole people comprehend the joy. 



SCENE lY. 

Flat Roof of Jephthalis House. 
TiRZAii, Zebah, Nurse. 
TiRZAH. Look thou, my daughter, in the farthest east, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 3i 

Where seems the blue sky edging the green earth ; — 
Seest thou ought stirring ? 

Zebah. O'er the vineyard- tops, 

Between us and the eastern road, that leads 
To Rabbath-Ammon, I discern no dust, 
Cast up to heav'n by my dear father's steps, 
Th' announcer of his coming. 

TiRZAH. 'Tis the strength 

Of our fond love and weary wishfulness, 
Which makes the time to roll with slowness on, 
Until my lord appear. 

Nurse. The showers, that fall 

High in the mountains, may with sudden rush 
Have slackened his foot's speed. 

TiRZAH. The mid-day heat, 

That burns the mountains, may have haply forc'd 
Th' overheated traveller t' exchange the broad 
And sun-scorch'd highway for the cooling shade 
Of forest-trees adjoining it. 

Nurse. As yet 

Day droops not ; and the sun, 'tween Gibeon s hill 
And his far setting-place i' th' western sea, 
Hangs mid- way, calling forth the rested hind 
To evening's furrow-labour. 

TiRZAH. There remains, 



38 JEPIITII All's DAUGHTER, 

Till til' evening-star appear, sweet interval. 
Next to the morning sweetest of the day. 
And grateful to the traveller. 

Zebah. Ere the dew 

Of twilight falls, the trumpet's voice aloud 
From Jabbok's ford shall publish his approach. 
Inviting us to meet him. 

TiRZAH. Deem it so, 

daughter ! and prepare thee for his coming ; 
Attire thee in thy goodliest array, 
The meetest for thy father in his triumph ; 
The chaplet broider'd and set up with gold, 
During his absence thy glad chamber-task, 
Now finished and adapted for his brows. 
Take in thy lap to crown him when thou meet'st ; 
The song thou hast indited for his love 
Have ready on thy lip ; and in thy hand 
Thy harp, to greet him with a burst of joy. 
Thy choir of damsels, too, the bloom and flower 
Of Mizpeh's daughters, taught to share thy song 
And dance, have all about thee, ministrant, 
With viols, harps, and timbrels, to swell out 
And furnish to the full the gratulation 
With every note, and chord, and sound, and step, 
Becoming that glad welcome ; — Look again 



A DRAMATIC POEJM. S^ 

My daughter 1 towards the eastern road, across 
The summits of the vineyards ; — Lo, methinks, 
A dust uprises ! 

Zebah. Near the white watch-tower 

I see a whirl of ruddy dust ascending 
O'er the green tree-tops ;. — Ha ! It follows on — - 
It marks the line of path — It cometh down — 
Draws toward Mizpeh n^earer, 

TiRZAH. Take thy harp ; 

Gather thy damsels — Go, my daughter, go, 
And meet thy father 'tween the vineyard rows, 
On this side the Jabbok. 

Zebah. Happy day ! 

And happy hour ! to give me back again 
My father I 



40 JEPHTHAH's DAUGHTEi?, 

ACT III. SCENE I. 

Vineyard between Mizpeh and the Jahhok. 

Zebah, Damsels, with Musical Instruments, 

Zebah. Here stand, O sisters, in this cool recess 
Of vineyard- shade, beside the way—- here, stand 
A little while, until the trumpet's note 
Warn us of their ascending up the path 
From the stream's bank. 

1st Damsel. They cross the Jabbok — now 

The trumpet, hark ! proclaims that they have reached 
The river's hither bank. 

2d Damsel. I see the prince 

Of Mizpeh in the fore- ward marching up, 
His spearmen following after. 

Zebah. Forward now, 

Upon the way, O sisters ! — right in front 
To meet him in the march ; — Each in the dance 
Assume her place, and let both voice and hand 
Send forth loud gratulation ? 

\_They begin the dance and song^ with 
the sound of harp and timbrel. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 41 

1. {All sing.) 

Awake my ten-string'd glory ! wake ; 
My voice ! sweet celebration make ; 
Sing praise, sing praise, to him who hath 
Freed Israel from the spoiler's wrath ; 
Make loud the timbrel ring ; advance 
To meet him in the measured dance ! 

2. (Zebah alone.) 

Follow me, sisters ! — I will lead 
The song, and in the dance precede ; 
The chaplet, which my fingers wove, 
Dear token of a daughter's love, 
Shall gird his temple ; mine own hand 
Shall crown him with the beauteous band ! 

3. {All) 
Mountains of Mizpeh ! lift the voice ; 
Ye vales ; ye vineyards ! all rejoice ; 
Your prince returns ; Behold him come 
Exulting in his triumph home ! 
In front he marches ; in the rear 
His warriors walk with ported spear. 



42 JEPHTHAH S DAUGHTER, 

4. (AIL) 

Approacli, tLou Champion of the Lord ! 
Now put aside thy spear and sword ! 
Joy, joy thy glorious entry waits ; 
And Mizpeh lifts on high her gates ; 
Thy consort for thy coming longs ; 
Thy daughter hails thee home with songs ! 

5. (Zebah alone,) 
Follow me, sisters ! I will lead 
The song, and in the dance precede ; 
The chaplet, which my fingers wove. 
Dear token of a daughter s love, 
Shall gird his temples ;— Mine own hand 
Will crown him with the beauteous band ! 

(Jephthah approaches — his daughter acU 
varices to meet him,) 
Zebah. Joy to my father ! Joy ! 

(Jephthah, starting hack with surprise.) 
Oh God ! My daughter ! 
Thou ! — Thou ! — my daughter ! — Oh ! 

Zebah. Look on me. Father ! 



A DRAMATIC I'OEM. 43 

Jephthah. Out on thee, O mj cbild ! where- 
fore, wherefore, 
Appear st thou here before me ? 

Zebah. I have come 

With songs to meet thee in thy home-approach, 
To crown thee with this coronet of love, 
Woven for thee in my chamber when I sate 
Pining for thy return ; — Ah me ! thou look*st not 
Upon me and the broider'd gift I bear ! 
Look on me, O my father ! 

Jephthah. my God ! 

Why was I born for this ? — would I had fallen 
Beneath the weapon of the Ammonite, 
And not have met my dearest, only child, 
Here, here, the first — thus, thus, disastrously ! 

Zebah. What meanest, thou, Father? Hast 
thou not 
Seen thy desire upon thine enemies ? 
Has not the God of Israel been with thee. 
And brought thee home, in all a warrior's joy. 
To meet thy people, Gilead's sons and daughters. 
Thy wife, thy daughter, now from Mizpeh's gates 
Pour'd to salute thee ? 

Jephthah. Speak not of it, child ! 

O speak not of a warrior's happiness ; 



44 JEPHTHAH^S DAUGHTER, 

Spare, spare, thy salutations — would to God 

Thy going forth, thy songs, and thy salutes, 

Had been forborne ! — thy virgin-choir and daince ! — 

And thou, first songster in thy father's praise, — 

Alas ! thou knowest not how they have slain 

Thy father's peace for ever ! 

Zebah. O what is this ? 

Such unexpected words — what mean they, father ? 
Alas! 

He looks not on me still — still in his eye 
From me and from the chaplet in my hand 
Turn'd off as in displeasure 1 (She weeps) 

O God ! reveal to me my sin ; what crime 
Have I committed in my ignorance 
Against the father that once lov'd me so. 
That thus his eye refuses me, and I 
Am shut out, as a stranger, from his heart ! 
O let me know mine error or my crime, 
That I may yet repair it, and regain 
A father's greetings and a father's love ! 
Instruct me, O my God ! (looking toioards heaven J 

Jephthah. O weep not, weep not 

Ill-fated, loving child ! — yea, for thy love 
Ill-fated ! — 'Tis not thou that hast been erring ; 
Thou art all innocence, and too much love ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 45 

Tis I thy father that hare err'd — 'Tis I 

That have against thee sinn'd — My lips, too rash, 

Have cruelly involy'd thy innocence, 

And made thee sufferer from thy father's error. 

Alas, I thought not — pardon me my child, 

O Pardon me ! (He kisses her) 

Thou canst not pardon me — 'tis a crime too huge 

For thy forgiving — do not then entreat me — 

Escape me— flee thy father — get thee up 

Into the mountains with thy virgin-choir, 

And dwell thou there within some secret cave 

Deep, deep, and dark and inaccessible. 

Which thy sad father's steps may ne'er have skill 

Amid the mazes of the wilderness 

To search out, and to penetrate ! 

Yet flee me not, my daughter — Oh, no, no — 

Thou must not, and thou canst not — thou art mine — 

I love thee — thou art due to me — thou canst not 

Escape the fatal pledge, remediless, 

Fallen from my lips ! 

Zebah. What fatal pledge, O father ? 

Thy words are full of mystery — but thine eyes. 
That look not on me with their wonted smile. 
Speak secret sorrows, too, too full of meaning ; — 
He weeps, alas ! and speaks not ! 



46 jephthah's daughter, 

Jephthah. (after sobs of weeping) 

Happy thou, 
My cliild ! more happy in thy ignorance, 
Than I in my most miserable knowledge ! — 
Ah me ! let not the day be blessed wherein 
I left my house in Ishtob, to lift up 
My spear against the foes of Israel ! 
O that the battle-field had been my grave ! 
Then I had died in peace, and not have seen 
This labour and this sorrow, that my days 
Should be consumed, and Jephthah and his house 
Be made a spectacle to Israel ! — 
Leave me my daughter! (Repels her from him,) 

Zebah. Miserable me ! 
My father flings me from his heart — Receive 
And refuge me, sweet comrades. 

1st Damsel. See ! the hero hides 

His head within his mantle-folds — ^his heart 
Throbs vf ith some strong unconquerable grief, — 
Unknown save to himself; — 
Daughter of Jephthah ! let us hence remove ; 
— Joyous we came, unjoyful we return ; — 
Pass onward, O my sisters ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 4? 

SCENE 11. 

Chamber in Jephthans House. 

Zebah, Tirzah. 

Zebah. mother ! 

Tirzah. My daughter, all in tears ! what hath 
befallen, 
That thus in sorrow to thy father's house 
Thou art returned ? 

Zebah. Ask not of me, my mother, 

Enquire it of my father ! 

Tirzah. Hath he not 

O'erpass'd the Jabbok as a conqueror ? 
Hath he not met thee with a kind embrace ? 
Didst not thou go out with thy virgin-troop 
The first to meet him on his homeward way ? 
— "Woes me ! thy look shows some befortun'd sorrow ; 
Not thus thou wentest forth with song and harp. 
With step more light than that of mountain-roe, 
Thy cheeks as two bright beds of morning-flowers. 
Thy forehead crown'd with gladness and with joy; — 
Not thus thou left'st me to fulfil thine errand 



48 JEPIITIIAH^S DAUGHTER, 

Of tenderest, sweetest, love — thou weepest now. 
And tears are on thy cheek ! 

Zebah. O mother, mother! 

I have offended ; — I have sinn'd ; — though free 
From self-reproach, unconsciously I have sinn'd, 
Against my father, and my God, and thee ; 
Oh, by a mothers love ! reveal wherein] 
I have offended — let me know the cause. 
That I may heal mine error, and recover 
Th' affections I have lost ! 

TiRZAH. Speak thou not thus. 

My child ! — conceive not, in thy soul's distress, 
Thoughts so unworthy of its purity ; 
Thou art not fallen in our most dear esteem, 
Hast suffered no abatement in our love ; 
Thou art all blameless ; and thy tenderness. 
By every act, but more and more deserves 
Richer returns from father and from mother 
Of corresponding sweet affection ; — 
If error hath befallen, 'tis not in thee — 
'Tis in thy mother or thy father ; — Say 
What, in thy going out, hath happened thee 
So strange, to mar thy cheer so suddenly. 
To fill thine eyes with tears, thy sinless heart. 
With cruel accusations of thyself, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 49 

And me, thy mother, with such anxious fears ? 
Saw'st thou thj father ?— Did he give to thee 
The fatherly salute ? 

Zebah. I saw him — but he gave 

To me no fatherly salute ; his eye 
Appeared to loathe or disacknowledge me, 
His daughter, as I led the virgin -choir, 
And met him with the greetings of my song. 
His ears seem'd shut against our gratulations, 
His heart against communion with our joy ; 
He gave no sign of joyous interchange ; 
But stood estranged to me and to my gift, 
As if o'erpassioned, talking to his heart 
Of some unspeakable and secret grief 
That had wreck'd all his peace. 

TiRZAH. Thy cheek, 

Wet with the tears that his estrangement caus'd, 
Did he not kiss ? 

Zebah. Alack ! it was a kiss 

That sprang not out of joy, but melancholy, 
A kiss of separation, not of welcome, 
That seem'd to signify a sad farewell ; 
'Twas ominous — as were the dreadful words 
That came with it, and sounded in mine ears 

D 



50 jephthah's daughter. 

As terrible commands, forbidding me 
My father's sight forever ! 

TiRZAH Woe is me, 

My daughter ! some calamity hath touched 
Thy father's spirit ; — Be thou comforted ; — 
His soul's obscurity to-day will clear ; — 
But see, he comes — not cheerful as was wont, 
But sorrowful, his warrior-mantle rent. 
His head with ashes stain'd ; — Retire^ my daughter ! 
(Zebah tcithdraws — Jephthah approaches 
from the opposite side, J 
Leave me to meet thy father. 

TiRZAH. Hail to my lord. 

And welcome to his house ! 

Jephthah O woman, woman ! 

Bid me not hail, nor welcome to my house ! 

TiRZAH. What means my husband by these 

startling words ? 

Jephthah. Look on these staining ashes — on 

this robe 
Rent by my anguish — these will not announce 
That Jephthah to his home returneth happy ; 
If these are feeble to express the pang 
Gnawing within, this bitter flood of tears 
More plainly will reveal it. fHe weeps. J 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 51 

TiRZAH. O my lord 1 

Thy sorrow terrifies my soul — What pang, 
What sudden arrow of heav'n-sent afiliction 
Hath pierc'd thy peaceful spirit t 

Jephthah. Pity me ! 

It is not God's infliction — 'tis my own — 
Mine own — th' infliction of my own rash lips — 
The words of dreadful import have been utter' d ! 
TiRZAH. . What words, my lord ? Thou speak'st 

a riddle to me ! 
Jephthah. O these dire words ! which ne'er 

should have been utter'd, 
But now are seaFd — are seal'd indelibly 
In Time's black, awful, unforgiving book 1 

TiRZAH, Still dost thou dissappoint me in thine 
answer, 
Nor let'st me be thy consort in thy sorrow ; 
O for mine own, thine, and thy daughter's sake. 
Admit me to the secrets of thy soul. 

Jephthah. My daughter ! — she is no longer 

mine nor thine — 
She is devoted — irredeemably 
Devoted — 

TiRZAH. By what vow, my lord, or where, 

Or when ? 



52 JEPHTHAIl's DAUGHTER, 

Jephthah. By his, whose words admit of no recall, 
Her miserable father i 

TiRZAH. O my lord ! 

Jephthha. Tis past — 'tis seal'd ! 

TiRZAH. Forbid it, gracious heaven ! 

Jephthah. Would that I could undo it ! 

TiRZAH. By what act 

Irreparable, hast thou vow'd away 
Thy daughter from thine arms ? 

Jephthah. The utter'd words, 

Though hastily pronounced, were in their scope 
Enlarged, not narrow'd to that single issue, 
To which th' untoward falling- out hath led, — 
An issue unconjectur'd, unforeseen, 
But now, to me, my daughter, and my house. 
Stamped — irretrievable calamity ! 
O hapless was the hour, when, from her chamber. 
My daughter went to meet me gratulant ! 
Unblessed were the steps, that with her choir 
She took, to face me foremost in the dance ! 
She met me first, — and she has brought me low — 
She, gentle, loving, too, too-duteous child, 
Has brought her father low ! 

TiRZAH. How so, my lord ? — 

Her joy to see her father, in his triumph. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 53 

Urg'd, and made bold, her blushing modesty, 
To meet thee of her maiden-troop the first ; 
In this, lay ought of error ? Herein, chief, 
Did not she pay due honour ? 

Jephthah. In this — in this, — 

Too much she honour'd — she hath humbled me ; 
Yea, brought me very low ! 
For — I, alas, had open'd to the Lord 
My mouth, and in the day of battle, vow'd 
A vow to God, and said, that, if he should 
Deliver th' Ammonite into my hands. 
Then, whatsoever shall come forth to meet me 
From mine own house, when, from the battle, I 
Return in peace, shall surely be the Lord's ; 
And I, unto the Lord, shall offer it 
As his burnt-offering up ; — Thus, thus, alas ! 
I op*d my mouth, nor can I now go back. 

TiRZAH. O vow 

Cruel, calamitous to thee and thine ! 
Heedless and unreflecting was the heart 
That gender'd it ! Most rash and unadvised 
The lip that did pronounce it ! 
O my devoted, dear, death -doomed child ! 
My daughter ! how shall I acquaint thine ear 
With these oer whelming tidings of a woe 



54 JKPirniAii's daughtkr, 

Tliat (loth belong to thee — and to thy mother — 

Thy father — and to all our house, — Alas ! 

To thee, my daughter, most ! \^iShe rushes out. 



SCENE III. 

House of the Priest, 

JEPinifAii, Priest. 

Jkputiiah. O thou, who with thine ears didst 
hear me pour, 
Amid the battles' bustle, the ru'd words, 
That now, alas ! as with a hedge of thorns, 
Circle me in, inextricably, with trouble, — 
Consider thou my souFs perplexity ; 
() weigh thou (if thou mayest,) in the scales 
Of mild interpretation, th' unweigh'd words 
That came, devoting, from a heart devout 1 
The purpose was all-pious,— -O let not 
The consummation be a deed so harsh, 
Unfatherly, and sinning against piety, 
As ev*n in thought doth stagger so my soul ! 
Heav'n, who is merciful, may overpass 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 
* 

A non-fulfilment, and a meant neglect, 
Proceeding thus from mercy. 

Priest. Heav'n accepted, 

And Earth recorded, the free-proffer'd vow ; — 
It cannot be recalled — She is devoted — 
By thine own words, thy daughter is devoted 
Unto the Lord ! 

Jephthah. The words were undeliberate ; — 
Amid th' anxiety and crowd of war. 
Oast up to heaven in casual utterance. 
As token of acknowledgment to Him 
To whom belong war's issues ; — what was thrown 
Out from between the toeth, without forecast. 
And weigh' d premeditation of the heart — 
Can Heav'n approve ? and by severe and strict 
Interpretation, claim inexorably 
As due ? the shedding of a daughter's blood. 
As the completion of a parent's vow, 
From the rash-vowing parent ? 

Priest. In that law 

Given by the heav'n -taught Moses for our guide, 
The rashness of the vower enters not 
Into th* instruction, as of force to change. 
Affect, or nullify the law's award. 
The law enjoins not, recommendeth not, 



56 jephthah's daughter, 

To any man, entangled howsoever 

In wars, or jeopardies, to make such vows 

As may infringe upon life's sacredness. 

Or desolate by death the family circle ; 

But, when such vows, how rash soe'er, are made, 

And are propounded with free voice to heav'n, 

The pledge, to heav'n proclaimed, must be fulfilled ; 

The law is rigid, without reference 

To wariness or forethought in the vower. 

Proclaiming, in its' plainness, loud and clear. 

That every thing devoted is most holy 

Unto the Lord ; "^ that none, who is devoted 

Of men, shall be by them redeem'd ; but shall 

Be surely put to death : These are the terms, 

Clear, simple, unencumber'd with exception, 

Of our most holy law. 

Jephthah. Ah, miserable ! 

Distracted thus — thus oppositely drawn. 
Between Loves' cords twin'd close about my heart. 
And the rude bonds my oath has laid upon me ! 
O whither, whither, shall I scape from anguish I 
On this side, perjury and breach of faith, 
Heav'n's execration, persecution, wrath. 
With man's deserv'd contempt, and contumely, 

* See Leviticus, chap, xxvii. ver. 28, 29. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 57 

Heap'd up upon me as a perjurer ; 

On that side, my dear daughter, mine own blood, 

My only child, mine and her mother's hope, 

By her own parent yielded as a victim. 

Falling beneath the sacrificer's knife ! 

Think not upon it, O my soul ! 

Priest. Go, prince 

Of Israel ! — fortify thy soul for this ; — 
Alas ! thine own mouth hath sore troubled thee ! 



SCENE lY. 
Tirzah's Chamber. 
Zebah, Tirzah. 

Zebah. Weep not, O mother ! 'Tis the hand of 
God 
Upon us and our house ! 

Tirzah. my child ! 

Had with his heavy hand God touched us, 
And, by disease or sickness, summoned thee 
To his own happy world, unmurmuring I 
Would have resigned into his mighty hand 



58 JEPHTH All's DAUGHTER, 

Thee, whom his goodness had but lent to us ; — 
But thus, thus cruelly and haplessly, 
To be dragged off from thy griev'd mother s side 
A victim — to die thus ! — God of heaven 1 
Thou, who art wont to send thine angels down 
T' encamp about the house of them that fear thee, 
And save them from their troubles, be thou nigh 
To us, that are of broken heart ! Give comfort 
To thine afflicted ! 

Zebah. To my father most, 

The faithful, who hath bound himself to heaven 
At his own blood's expense ! — Him, him may God 
Support in his soul's trial ! — -He hath sav*d 
His country ; God by him hath taken vengeance 
Of Ammon's children ; and his daughter dies 
A death of honour, the pact stipulated 
To Heaven, for triumph o'er his enemies ; 
And she will triumph in fulfilling it ; 
Not, in her glory, less than he whose spear 
Achieved the prize of battle. Fear not, mother ! 
God will support us ! 

TiRZAH. O my daughter ! thou 

Dost in thy meekness and submission give 
A lesson to thy parents too sublime : — 
O into me infuse thy spirit's calmness ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. :)\) 

Teach me, thy mother, thy serenity ; 

T' endure the torturing thought of loss of thee ; 

To lose my solace in a world, thenceforth 

Made but a vale of tears by thy departure ; 

To hear thy harp-consorted voice no more ; 

To see the place where thou at table sat'st 

For ever empty, and to sit, alone 

And weeping-weary, in the happy chamber, 

Where thou wert wont to feast me with thy song ! 

Zebah. O mother, greater are Heav'n's sacred 
pleasures 
Than those that spring of frail humanity ! 

TiRZAH. Ah me ! The cares, and fears, and tears, 
and joys. 
And all a mother's first anxieties. 
In nurturing thee, her only, only stay. 
In fixing thy yet-tottering infant-steps. 
In watching thy fair virgin-growth, that seem'd 
A graceful olive twining round our wall — 
Her hope, who, in the coming eve of life, 
(She trusted), would support her faltering steps. 
And close her eyelids in her dying hour — 
All these fond thoughts and expectations 
Blasted, cut off — and desolation's gloom 
Hopelessly settling o'er a mother's heart ! 



60 jephthah's daughter, 

Zebah. God v/ill compensate thee with other 

joys, 

My mother ! 

TiRZAH. Alas ! the House of Jephthah ! It alone, 
Amid the many thousand families 
Of Gilead and of Bashan that rejoice 
In Jephthah's victory — Jephthah's house alone 
Is struck with sadness and with misery 1 
And, when the mothers of our land receive 
Their captiv'd daughters back again from his 
Victorious hand, their champion of deliverance, 
Who hath triumphed and led captivity 
Heroically captive — his own house, 
For country given away, instead of joy 
Is fiird with sorrow, his lone consort reft 
Of daughter, and the daughter suffering doom 
Beyond a captive's worst and cruellest ! 
Oh ! 'tis too much — a sacrifice beyond 
The capabilities and powers of Nature ! — 
Unhappy, unforethinking, unkind father, 
Beneficent to others, to his own 
Too reckless and unsparing ! 

Zebah. Spare, O mother ! 

These frettings ; spare thy consort, O BelovVl ! 
Let no untender or repining word 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 61 

Fly forth against liim ; — That Id deed would be 
The worst and heaviest part of this our trial, 
Whereby th' Almighty proves us. 

TiRZAH. How may I, 

O child ! forbear to fret at him — ray husband — 
That doth unehild me ? was it not his mouth 
That spoke, uncall'd-for and unnecessarily, 
The death-charg'd words ? happy ! had he been 
But silent, and not, of his own accord. 
Chained himself down into such dire necessity, 
By a few winged words ejaculated 
Forth of the lip ! Thy father's silence, then. 
Had been our safety and our happiness ; 
And we, to-day, like Mizpeh's other mothers, 
Would have rejoiced : — But now, we are the sad ; 
They happy ! 

Zebah. Jephthah's house shall in its fame 
Flourish amid the families of Israel, 
When Mizpeh's mothers are uncelebrated : 
O let the thought of thy dear daughter's glory 
Sustain thee, mother, when, without her thou 
Walk'st through the Baca of this passing life. 
Onward and upward to thy God ! 

Tirzah. My child ! 

Sweet are thine answers, yet they do but more 



62 jephthah's datjghter, 

Excite that sorrow, in thy mother's breast, 
Which, in thy goodness, thou wouldst fain repress : 
O, had it pleas'd my God ! (Heav'n pardon me 
If I do speak unwisely) that, instead 
Of thee my only child, thy mother had 
Advanced to meet thy father — had that vow 
FalFn but on me ! that so thou might'st have liv'd, 
I died ! 

Zebah. My mother ! let us not arraign 

The providence of Heaven ; — What hath befallen 

Hath fallen out in wisdom. 

TiRZAH. Nought for me, 

I see all round, but sorrow, sorrow, sorrow ; — 

O house, O walls, O chamber, weep for me ! 

Weep with me, and for me ! Maids of my house, 

Mothers of Mizpeh weep for me ! — Alas ! 

The suffering is too much ! Angels of Grace 

Support me 1 

\_She SW0071S and falls into the ay^ms 
of her daughter. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 63 

SCENE Y. 

A Chamber, 

Zebah. 

Zebah. 'Tis stiird — the rage of grief ; — my 

mother s breast. 
Exhausted by her too much suffering, 
Beats calmer ; and, with words of consolation, 
I left her, sooth'd into tranquillity. 
Oh — now my heart is left unto itself, 
Flow, flow, my tears ; weep, weep, my streaming 

eyes, 
A flood of sorrow for my father's house. 
For my dear father, for my anguished mother, 
For me myself — Ah ! no, not for myself ; — 
To pour down tears of sorrow for myself, 
It were too weak, too like to a regret 
At the sad issue that involves my life ; 
And yet — they needs must come — fShe weeps J — 

Excuse, God! 
These tears of nature ; — they flow not from ought 
To thee rebellious, or thy Providence : — 



64 JEPHTII All's DAUGHTER, 

I am prepared — I go — my victim-life 

Is ready, ready, for the sacrifice : 

And yet — to leave so soon my mucli-belov'd 

And loving parents, with their hearts all-torn 

By a departure unto them so sad ; 

To leave my sweet companions, with the whom 

So glad I climb'd the flow'ry hill of Life ; 

To leave this dear delicious light of God, 

His sun, and moon, and stars, and earth, and all 

His beauteous, boundless world, gipread round about 

me, 
The ocean of his glory, still inviting 
My young and ravish' d eyes to feed themselves 
With His most rich and unexhausted pleasures — 
To leave all these — to say. Farewell to these — 
To die so prematurely, ere I well 
Have known God, or his works ! (She iceeps.) 
Weep, weep, my heart — 
Yet sink not, O my heart ! 

Arouse thee — leave all these — leave father, mother, 
Companions, God's bright works, sun, moon, and 

stars. 
And, in exchange, take what excells them all, 
O take thy God himself ! — 
Rejoice then, heart, and take thy bliss in him ! — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 65 

'Tis fix'd — I am prepar'd — I go — my life 
Is ready, ready for the sacrifice ! 

Jephthah. (^who enters J T heard a voice — my 
daughter ! 

Zebah. O my father ! fShe embraces him. J 

Jephthah. She sinks into my arms — O thou 

most hapless ! 
At once the grief, and gladness of my soul, 
How canst thou thus embrace thy cruel father ? 

Zebah. Out of my filial tenderness and love, 
And to regain the kindness of that smile. 
That made me so o'er-blessed heretofore ; 
Look now upon me, father ! 

Jephthah. Spare, spare my child, 

These filial sweet caresses unto me. 
Of them so undeserving ! 

Zebah. Say not so, 

O father ! — thou deserv'st them mere and more. 
Art thou not he, whose champion-spear hath wrought 
Deliverance to thy country ? He who proved 
His patriot-spirit, by conditioning 
With Heav'n for victory, in terms which Heav'n, 
Accepting, hath now ratified and seal'd, 
By a completion rich to Israel 
Of glory ? 



66 jephthah's daughter, 

Jephthah. Rich to Israel, to myself, 

Most desolating, making me poor of thee, 
The gem and jewel of thy father's house, 
My dear and only child ! 

Zebah. Ah, no ! thou hast 

Above the thousand daughters of our land 
Thy daughter's name and reputation raised : — 
Hast, by thy poising her in the same scale 
With Israel's victory o'er his enemies, 
Advanc'd her worth, made precious her esteem 
Above the rate of women : — She is now 
The gem and jewel of her father's house. 
Set and enchas'd within her country's glory, 
Unperishing, and excellent in brightness 
Beyond the gold of Uphaz. 

Jephthah. Thy filial love, 

O daughter ! doth too much enravish thee, — 
It makes thy dutiful and lenient soul 
Too much forgiving of thy father's error, — 
Or, shall I call it error, or misfortune. 
Or crime — that rued, and rash, and rapid act. 
Which, though compris'd in a few moments' space. 
Is yet most durable in its infliction. 
Has struck a sword into my house's peace, 
Made my lone house a wilderness for ever. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 67 

Robb'd me of thee, and brought — Fly back my soul. 
Approach not the sad sequel — 'tis too full 
Of ghastliness to think of ! — Would I could 
Make void my pledge's terms, and, stead of thee. 
The innocent, dear, daughter, substitute 
The lost and erring father ! would that Heaven 
Would forego the strict claim, and take, in mercy, 
Me, the de\^oting, for the sad devoted. 
Me, who deserve, for her, the undeserving ! 

Zebah< O father ! in thy sorrow tempt not 

Heaven 
With quer'lous thoughts, most near to fretfulness : 
Ev'n from my father's mouth, I may not hear 
Words that accuse my father ; He must be 
Unblam*d, ev'n by himself ; his aim, his act, 
Held honourable, just, and virtuous, 
Flowing from country's love, and, by th' event, 
Link'd in with country's triumph : — 'tis to me 
That lustre all accrues, — I fall triumphant 
Upon the altar of my country, fall 
A sacrifice, illustrious by the glory 
That hath o'erpaid and overbalanc'd it. 
Then, grieve not, father ! rather joy with me 
At an adjustment, and a latter end, 
Crown'd with a garland of such lofty honour, — 



68 JEPHTn All's daughter, 

Thou hast unto the Lord opened thy mouth ; 

Do to me, then, according to the word 

Which hath proceeded from thy mouth ; prepare 

Altar and altar's implements, and all 

The fitments seemly for the sacrifice ; 

Lead forth thy daughter to her scene of glory ; 

She is prepared ; she goes with thee not loath. 

But willing ; and her own untrembling feet 

Shall carry her to the altar. 

Jephthah. O thou spirit 

Sublime ! devotedly magnanimous ! 
Who, in thy maiden meekness and thy youth, 
Mak'st thy self-chastis'd father yield before thee. 
And do thee homage, as a mind not earthly. 
Soft as thy sex, but, as an angel, firm, 
O how shall I accost thee ? Shall I call 
Thee, Daughter ? Is it thou, whom, with a few 
Swift-utter'd words, I have so thrown away ? 
O is it thou, who must — so soon — alas ! 
Be yielded up — and, by a father's hand, 
As a thing forfeited and due ? So much 
Of sweet endearment and of excellence ! 

Zebah. Yet father, ere the offering be completed, 
One thing I beg — let it be done for me — 
'Tis but short respite for the sake of love. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 69 

Jephthah. Speak, O my angel-child ! Thou 

art to me 
As Urim ; and the bidding of thy words 
Is as the chiming voice of oracle, 
That ravishes the ears unto obedience. 

Zebah. Ere that be done to me, which hath pro- 
ceeded 
Out of thy mouth, allow me for a space. 
Attended by my fellows, Mizpeh's maids, 
Friends of my youth, and co-mates of the choir, 
To walk on Mizpeh's mountains up and down, 
And sing our virginal sweet Farewell-song 
Unto the woods, and hills, and fountains clear, 
Aye intermixing^: tender lamentations 
For my lost hopes, and my virginity. 

Jephthah. Be it according to thy wish and word, 
High-minded child ! — for thou hast conquer d me ; 
And, even against thyself, I am all thine. 



JEPIITHAH S DAUGHTER. 



ACT lY. SCENE I, 

Chamher, 
Zebah, Nurse. 

Zebah. O thou, who in thy bosom once did 
carry, 
And cherish me, a child— guide of my steps I 
And trainer of my spirit, to whose ears 
I did commit my every childish care, 
And childish want, which were so readily 
Ans\yer'd by thee, with motherly affection — 
Assist me now, thou faithful one ; — again 
I need thy kindly heart, and helpful hand, 
Though not, as heretofore, t* abet the joy 
And schemes of playful childhood ; — Childhood's 

days 
Are over, and their pleasing pastimes gone ; 
New days now roll upon us other duties. 
And call up other and more serious thoughts. 

Nurse. My Child, (for by that name, both from 
my love 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 71 

And foster-privilege, I do address thee,) 

Thou, who didst sleep an infant in my bosom. 

And whom, in thy j^oung spirit's amiableness, 

Mine eyes, admiringly, have watch' d and followed, 

Ev'n to this hour, when I behold thee sad 

And cumbered with the dire calamity. 

That hath befallen thy father and his house — 

O inauspicious vow ! O fatal issue ! — 

— Accursed be the hour when Gilead's chiefs 

Dragged forth thy father from the tran(][uil land 

Of Ishtob, to take up his spear for them. 

And fight their battle out, that they might live 

Quiet amid their sunny vales, whilst he, 

He and his house, disquieted, convuls'd, 

Should — 'Worse than die 1 

Zebah. Spare, spare, I pray, these words 
That strike at heaven ; — It is not fit that we 
Should fret as sinful murmurers, and say 
To Providence, Thy issues are untoward ! 
'Tis ours to be obedient, and comply 
As God directs the current. 

Nurse. God himself. 

My daughter, doth forbid not our regrets, 
Our struggles to stem up the counter-current. 



72 jephthah's daughter. 

When Prudence justifies and gives an aim :-— 

— O was it then for this— an end like this- — 

So unexpected, cruel, terrible. 

That I have in my bosom carry'd thee, 

Tended thy pillow in thy infant slumbers. 

Fed thee with honey and with milk, train'd up 

Thy lisping tongue to syllable the name 

Of God, thy heart to marvel at his works, 

Taught thy fair feet to vary forth the dance, 

Thy fingers to call music from the harp ? 

All, all, for this, a termination hateful, 

Abhorr'd, as most unsightly, and unpiteous, 

For eye to look upon, or heart to think I — - 

— O thou my daughter, dearer unto me 

Than is the blood now fluttering fearfully 

About my aged heart — hearken to me — 

List to my love-urg'd counsel — Flee these walls — 

Thy father, kindred, country, flee them all — 

Escape man's cruelty — get thee away 

Up to the mountains, and the forest-shades ; 

There lurk — there save thee 'mong the forest-beasts, 

And live unharm'd, forgetful of thy father. 

And reckless of his vow. 

Zebah. Where a vovv's pledge 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 73 

Has solemnly been given before the Lord, 
How faithless and unholy to infringe 
The vow in faith thus given ! 

Nurse. Tis piety, 

Where the fulfilment's fraught with inhumanity. 
In thee to be unpious ; — 'Tis the end, 
That characters the whole preliminaries, 
And where the sequel is a thing abominable, 
Too hideous to be nam*d, the leading acts, 
Though simple in themselves, yet, from that bad 
And barb'rous consequence they introduce. 
Borrow a barbarous and a bloody tinge. 

Zebah. Where man with God hath bargained for 
the good 
Of his afflicted country, and that good 
Hath followed on the bargain's terms, 'tis just 
That man should, what he cov'nanted, fulfill ; 
He stands a bounden debtor to his God. 

Nurse. High Heav'n, my child, in dealing forth 
success, 
Doth not on such low terms make covenant 
With man, his creature ; what our God bestows, 
He giveth freely, like himself in grace, 
Without the bondasre of such mean conditions. 



/ 4 JEPHTIIAH S DAUGHTER, 

Zebah. God's perfect laT^, to IsraeFs sons tlie 
guide, 
Consign'd for sureness to the brass and stone^ 
Commands, that what of men shall be devoted 
By man unto the Lord, shall be most holy, 
And shall, as such, to him be offered up. 

Nurse. God's law of mercy, by his own wise 
hand 
Engraved for sureness on the human heart, 
Forbids, that man, by deeds unmerciful, 
Should honour him whose mercy shine th forth 
His darling and eternal attribute. 

Zebah. Mercy is mighty, and shines glorious forth 
Yf hen not out- faced by a mightier claim ; 
When world-controlling Justice rears his voice, 
She yields, in modest silence, from her suit. 

Nurse. Mercy, my child, upon a theme like this. 
Will never yield ; stern Justice back will shrink, 
And hazard not himself and his awards, 
By a too harsh enforcement, that may shake 
Among mankind his fair authority, — 
Flee therefore, O my child ! Forget thy father. 
Forget his vow ! 

Zebah. A father s sway extends, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 75 

O'er all the life and conduct of liis children. 
When he commands, they must obey ; so long 
As they abide beneath paternal roof. 
They must be passive to paternal rule. 

Nurse. When fathers ask of unoffending children 
Things against which Man's ripened heart revolts, 
Ev'n to the sure destruction of themselves 
In their own blood, 'tis righteous to rebel ; 
'Tis^wisdom in the child, then to withstand ; 
And stubbornness is kindness towards him 
'Gainst whom it is rebelled — Flee, then, my child ! 
Escape thy father, and thy father's house ! 

Zebah. O thou the guide, and guardian of my 
youth ! 
I hear thee, yet assent not to thy words ; 
In vain thou plead'st ; in vain thou, in thy love, 
Essay'st to tutor me in this new law 
Of disobedience to a father's will ; 
As if his honour, and a daughter's love. 
And life, were set in strife and opposition. 
Ah, no — 

His honour, which is greater, is as mine ; 
My life, which is the less, is his ; they both 
Are as of one, and so accord together. 
That, to fill up the measure of the greater. 



76 jephthah's daughter, 

The lesser willingly doth yield itself. 
There is no strife and no repugnancy ; 
I yield myself, not backward, but in joy, 
As one, whose life hath cheaply purchased • 
Her country's glory, and shall firmly seal 
Her father's faithfulness. — Essay not, then, 
To stay me, thou, whose voice's honour'd sound 
Thy daughter hitherto has e'er obey'd ; 
'Gainst Heaven thou can'st not sway me ; herein I 
Must be triumphant ev*n o'er thee — O suffer 
And pardon, then, that here I disobey thee — 
It is the first — 'twill be the last — forgive 
This, this, my only disobedience 1 (She falls on her 
neck,) 

Nurse. Thou killest me, my child ! O cease such 
words — 
I am subdued — I will no longer plead ; — 
To thy affectionate and ardent spirit 
I render up myself ; — Yet still to me, 
Unfold, as to thy friend, thy thoughts ; — Be that 
Now, now, my only suit. 

Zebah. Ere that my father 

Shall do to me according to his vow, 
I go, with his allowance and fair will, 
To Mizpeh's mountains, I and my co-mates. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 77 

The fellow-songsters of that virgin-choir, 
That met my father in his homeward-march ; — 
There up and down the mountains, 1 and thej. 
Free-footed, will, with song and psaltery, 
Walk in the dewy morn, at sunny noon, 
And shadow -lengthening eve, beside the rills. 
And founts, or underneath the fir-tree's shades, — 
A new, sad, band of mountain-choristers, 
Making the mountain-hollows to respond 
In long, sweet echoes, to our lengthen'd notes 
Of lamentation, whilst I sing my wail 
Over my father's lost and wither'd hopes — 
His wither'd hopes — and my sweet tender youth 
Cut ojQf from blessing with fresh shoots his house. 
Go, then, my faithful dame !— of mine intent 
Apprise my dear companions, Atarah, 
Miriam, and Shelomith, and Abigail, 
Ahijah's fair-hair d daughter Arubah, 
Mahlah and Milcah, and the other maids. 
My playmates on the Jabbok's- flowery banks ; 
Bid them put on their simplest, lightest, robes. 
Their mountain-mantles, their sun-bafiiing veils,' 
Their mountain-sandals, best to guard their steps 
Amid the rocky summits ; bid them take 
In hand their timbrels, harps, and psalteries. 



iQ JEPHTHAH S DAL GHTER, 

That we may well accompany our song 
With the struck cliime of many-sounding strings. 
To-morrow, ere the day-star shall be hovering 
O'er Amnion's hills, be they prepared to join 
My steps, forth -coming from my father's house, 
To Mizpeh's eastern gate. There let us meet, 
And thence, ascending, take our bill-ward way. 
Beneath the sweet beams of the morning-star. 

Nurse. To one not slow or slothful to fulfil 
Thy will, thou dost communicate this charge ; 
To-morrow, ere the star of dawn be risen. 
Thy partners shall be gather d at the gate. 

Zebah. Thou too, dear dame, be there; — Till 
then, farewell ! 

Nurse. Till morn, farewell, my bosom-cherish'd 
child ! 
The God of Jacob be thy comforter ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 79 

SCENE II. 

The Eastern Gate of Mizpeh. 

Nurse, Zebah, and the Choir of Damsels. 

Nurse. (Advajicing to the gate) 
Watchman, that keep'st the city ! from thy tower 
Where, during the night-watches, thou dost stand, 
Descend ! 

Watchman. (From above) 

What damsel-train, in goodly robes 
Appareird, comes so early hitherward, 
Streaking the public way, as down they pass. 
With a long, liying, line of lovely light ? 
Speak, friends, that I may know you ! 

Nurse. We are come 

On errand from the city, and entreat, 
That thou wouldst push aside the bars of brass 
That cross thy gates, and open unto us 
Free way to Mizpeh's mountains. 

Watchman. The day-star 

As yet hath hardly clomb the lowest step 
Of Heaven's steep ladder, and the city-gate, 
At this star-lighted hour, doth hesitate 
To troul upon his hinges. 



80 jepiithah's daughter, 

Nurse. Not of us 

Be thou distrustful, watchman ! — we are bent 
To seek the mountains at this dewy hour, 
To see the morning-sun up-shoot his horns 
From Midian's eastern wilderness, to mark 
The family of stars die out of Heaven, 
To spy th' illumination of the world 
Before th' Almighty's servant, him who walks 
With steps of glory round the universe. 
T' inbreathe the mountain-fragrance, and to sing 
Our choral song to Heaven — Not, then, of us 
Be thou distrustful, Watchman ! Open thou 
To us thy gates ! 

Watchman. C Descends and opens the gate..) 
Daughters of song ! I ope 
To you the gates ; pass through, ye sister-songsters ! 
Behold, the stars invite you ; yonder East, 
Where Heav'n is knit to Earth, begins to gleam 
With day's young light; — Lo ! Heav'n and Eartl 

invite ^ou ! 
Go, get ye to the mountains, then, of myrrh ; 
Ascend, ye fair ! the hills of frankincense ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 81 

SCEXE III. 

The Mo7intams of Gilead, 

Zebah, and the Choir of Damsels. 

1. CAll) 
Behold ! the morning, in its spread, 
Makes Hermon's dewy summits red ; 
The vales, that sleep below in mist. 
Are by the rising radiance kiss'd ; 
I see them, mountain, valley, flood. 
Rejoicing in the light of God ! 

2. (Zebah alone.) 

Fields, forests, mountains, valleys, ring 
With joy, and loud their anthem sing ; 
But I5 that wander all -forlorn, 
Take up my weeping here, and mourn ; 
I mourn my parents, and their state 
Of hope now reft, and desolate ! 

F 



82 jephthah's daughter, 

8. (The Choir.) 
O happy hero, had thy tongue 
Been prudent, as thy heart was strong I 
O hapless hero ! hopeless now. 
And childless rendered by thy vow ! 
A word thy greatness low hath laid ; 
And dreary-waste thy dwelling made. 

4. (Zebah alo7ie.y 
In hope my father forth did go, 
To conquer Israel's plundering foe ; 
Without a hope, though rich in fame« 
Back to his house, the hero came ; 
His house's hope, his house's stay, 
He vow'd unto his God away ! 

5. {AIL) 
Mountains of Gilead ! loud resound 
From cliff to cliff our sorrows round ; 
Respond, O Bashan's every vale, 
In echoes to our woeful wail ; 
Fountains, and forests, join our grief, 
For Mizpeh's maid, and Gilead's chief! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



SCENE lY. 



Another part of the Mountains of Gilead. 

1. {AIL) 
A many-marching troop we be, 
Of melancholy minstrelsy ; 
Now up the mountains wend we slow, 
Now down into the valleys go ; 
From height to hollow, den to dale. 
We wend and wander in our wail ! 

2. 

The grottoes in the mountains steep 
Are the night-chambers where we sleep ; 
The pine-trees shade at noon we make 
The couch where cool repose we fake ; 
Around the founts we build our bowers, 
To save us from the mountain-showers. 



84 jephthah's daughter. 

3. 

As round we range in mournful mood, 
The mountain-berries are our food ; 
We pluck the fruitage fresh and free, 
From the wild fig and olive-tree ; 
And, from the rill that trickles near, 
We drink the waters sweet and clear. 

4. (Choir op Damsels.) 
Like doves of the far valleys, we 
Upon the dewj mountains be ; 
Each of us mourning her we love, 
Our sister, sweetest turtle-dove ; 
Each of us mourning, long and loud. 
Him, who so fatally hath vow'd ! 

5. (Zebah alone.) 

In hope my father forth did go. 
To conquer Israel's plundering foe ; 
Without a hope, though rich in fame. 
Back to nis house the hero came ; 
His house's hope, his house's stay. 
He vow'd unto his God away ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 85 

6, (All) 

Mountains of Gilead ! loud resound 
From cliff to cliff our sorrows round ; 
Respond, O Bashan's every vale ! 
In ecboes to our woeful wail; 
Fountains, and forests ! join our grief, 
For MizpeVs maid, and Gilead's chief! 



SCENE Y. 
Grove in the Mountains of Gilead, 

Choir of Damsels. 

1. 

As shoots the citron, blossom-crown' d, 
The fairest tree in forest-ground, 
So MizpeVs maid, to every view, 
The blossom of our city grew ; 
Her mother saw with gladden'd eyes, 
Her shape of comely beauty rise. 



Si} jephthah's daughter, 

2, 
Her father's heart joy'd secretly 
Her sweet unfolding bloom to see. 
His only plant, he saw her shout. 
With promise and rich hope of fruit ; 
He forward look'd to years, when bliss 
From children's children should be his ■: 

3. 

Alas ! these golden hopes are shorn ; 
The tree of promise up is torn ; 
His house, with shouts of joy that rang, 
Nov/ suffers under sorrow's pang ; 
Toss'd on her couch, the mother weep&j 
The father gloomy silence keeps. 

4. (Zebah alone.} 
In hope my father forth did go, 
To conquer Israel's plundering foe ; 
Without a hope, though rich in fame^ 
Back to his house the hero came ; 
His house'"s hope, his house's stay, 
He vow'd unto his God away 1 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 87 

5. (AIL) 
Mountains of Gilead ! loud resound 
From cliff to cliff our sorrows round ; 
Respond, O Bashan's every vale \ 
In eclioes to our woeful wail ; 
Fountains, and ft)rests ! join our grief, 
For Mizpeh's maid, and Gilead's chief ! 



ACT Y. SCENE I. 

The Norther 71 Gate of Mizpeh. 

Watchman, Nurse, Zebah, and Choir. 

Watchman. What train be these, in damsel- 
raiments dress'd. 
With long, green branches in their hands, seen waving 
In the clear moonshine, hitherward that come 
Down the steep northern road that slopeth up 
To Gilead's mountain ? Speak, night- wandering train ! 
That I may know you ! 

Nurse. Watchman, on thy tower 

That standest all night long to keep the city ! 



8 8 jephthah's daughter. 

Descend thou, and unbolt thy guarded gates. 
That we may enter. 

AYatchman. The wayfaring men, 

Familiar to the desert, that all day 
Have jaded out their journey to the sun, 
Already have pass'd through — the vintager 
And labour- weary'd hind, now cabin'd sit 
Within their reed-roof d houses — all that seek 
The city, or for safety, or for rest, 
Are enter'd ; — who, then, ye, O damsel-train ! 
So tardy, that have over-timed the hour 
That shuts the city-portals ? 

Nurse. We are come 

Down from the mountains, where, a season, vve 
Have been with thoughtful footsteps wandering. 
Singing upon their summits, and within 
Their greenwood hollows, both to heav'n and earth, 
Our plaintive song, expressive of the theme 
That burdens our sad hearts. 

Watchman. The moon hangs high ; 

And the rich dew falls heavily; — this hour 
Is late for the wayfarer. 

Nurse. We have chosen 

This hour, the bright, the quiet, and the cool. 
When the throng'd city-gates have ceas'd their noise 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 89 

Of thoroughfare and business, to pass in 
Silent and unregarded ; — open, then, 
To us, O watcher ! that again we may 
Be greeted in our houses. 

Watchman. (Opens the gate,) Enter in 

Ye minstrels of the mountains ! that have been 
Singing your songs of lamentation 
To heaven, and earth, expressive of the theme 
That burdens your sad hearts ; — Enter, and greet • 
Your friends, and be ye greeted in your houses 1 



SCENE II. 

Chamber. 

Zebah. (Alone.) 

Zebah. After a sweet short slumber, I awake :- 
The sun yet keeps his eastern cave, but Night 
Is nearing to the world's great western gate 
Through which she seeks the sea ; — It is the hour 
AYhen the hir'd labourer doth unfold his hands 
For yet one slumber ; whilst the virtuous matron, 



90 jephthah's daughter, 

Girding iier loins witli strength, dispenses food. 

By her lamp's early light, unto her household. 

And portipns out the day-tasks to her maidens ; — 

It is the hour, too, when the watchful sage. 

In love with wisdom, courts her by the light 

Of the Day-star, his lamp, whose brighter beam, 

Amid a field of lustres numberless, 

Directs him to his Maker ; — fittest hour 

For meditation, and soul-arming thought 

Against Time's various stirring incidents. 

Toils, trials, duties, of th' approaching day. — 

O thou, my soul ! thou hast to-day thy toils, 

To-day thy last great duties, and thy trials ; 

Be not disquieted ; encounter them ; 

Enwrap thee in thy conscious virtue ; make 

Thy stay, thine own nobility of purpose ! 

Be Heaven thy hope, when thou quit'st hold of Earth ; 

Be God thy comforter, in th' arms of Death ! 

The day that dawns shall be thy day of glory ; 

A day not unrenown*d to Jacob's sons ; 

In future times, the daughters of our land. 

On mountains, and in valleys, in their songs 

Shall of thy name make honourable mention. 

As one, that, with her short, frail life, did buy 

Her country's and her father's lasting triumph. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 91 

O arm thee, then, mj soul, to take tliy last 

Farewell of all this world ! — fair though it be, 

Tis but an out-field of God's bright creation ; 

A better world awaits thee ; — Fear thou not, 

Towards that much-fairer land, th' Almighty's home. 

To wing thy flesh -uncumberd, happy way ; 

Happy the more from being premature ; — 

Too soon we cannot be unclogg'd of earth. 

And taste eternal joys I — But soft — I hear 

The sound of gentle footstep — 'tis the tread 

Of one — my trusty servant — whom I bade 

Attend my chamber, at this early hour. 

For my behests — 'tis she — f Servant enters J 

The peace of heaven 
Be with thee, faithful one ! Thou timest well 
The over-night's appointment. 

Servant. May the grace 

And blessing from on high abide with thee. 
Thou daughter of my lord ! I stand before thee 
Submissive to thine orders. 

Zebah. In apt hour 

Thou comest ; — -Yet is heard the din of men 
In Mizpeh's streets ? 

Servant. Deep silence sitteth yet 

On Mizpeh's house-roofs, and within her streets ; 



92 jephthah's daughter, 

The mill-stone sleepetli idle on the hearth 

Unwhirl'd, nor utters yet his lively sound ; 

The grinder's morning-song is yet unsung ; 

And not a creaking hinge is heard to move. 

Letting day-labourer forth. 

Zebah. 'Tis a meet time 

For wafting forth such messages as mine ; 

Go then, thou faithful bosom ! unto whom 

I thus entrust my secretest resolves ; 

Steal, in thy veil, forth from my father's house, 

And, passing thorough Mizpeh's silent streets. 

Seek thou the habitation of the priest. 

Where, lone and over-arch'd by branching trees, 

It stands beside the city- wall : — Address 

To him the words wherewith I charge thine ear ; 

Bid him put on his breast-plate, and his robes 

For beauty and for glory eminent. 

For this good day requires his ministry ; 

Bid him prepare his altar, and with it 

The sacrificial fire, and implements 

Subservient to the work of sacrifice ; 

Have them all forth, and ready by the time 

The sun at highest rides ; — for, at that hour, 

The victim, in her robes and fillets dress'd, 

Shall stand at th' altar by his side, prepar d. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 03 

The just and willing offering due to Heaven ! 
Go then, O dear and faithful heart ! bear thou 
These my commands in secrecy, and seaFd 
Ev'n from the people of my father's house ; 
Nor let thy footsteps tremble, or be backward 
In this thy trusted mission. 

Servant. Ah, sad errand ! 

My fearful feet, indeed do hesitate ; 
And yet, my duteous heart, engaged to thee, 
O daughter, urgeth me to its fulfilment. 
Farewell !| 



SCENE III. 

Chamber, 

Jephthah, Sholmi. 

Jephthah. Man of my peace ! thou who hast 
shar'd my joys. 
And tasted of my griefs, support me now 
In my extremest sorrows : — I have stood 
With thee in battle's terriblest assaults, 
Unshaken, though the arrow and the spear 
Were levell'd at my bosom ; but the griefs 



94 JEPHTHAH S DAUGHTER, 

Of fchis impendiDg conflict weigh me down, 
And make me roll in ashes. 

Sholmi. Would to God 

I had a balm for such soul-piercing wounds ! 
I look around me wide for remedy, 
In vain ; — I cast about for some device, 
In vain ; — some scheme to free thee from the net 
Of misery, self-wrought, self-spread, wherein 
Thy momentary speech hath tangled thee ! 

Jephthah. 'Tis fix'd my friend 1— Cruel Necessity 
Hath shut us in, within her iron arms ; 
Alas ! my faith stands sponsor for the issue ; 
The law with peremptory tone exacts ; 
The priest unwillingly, with trembling lips, 
Expounds the altar's claims ; and Mizpeh's people, 
Deeply commov'd 'tween a religious sense 
Of th' obligation of that awful vow. 
And pity for th' event that needs must follow 
As its completion, stand perplex'd, confus'd. 
Anxious, yet fearful for the deathful close. 
No light — no hope — no possibility 
Appears of an escape ; — Religion, Law, 
And Honour, all conclude, — My Child must die ! 

Sholmi. O word of horrid utterance — name it 
not! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 95 

Jephthah. Heav'n is imperious — Would to God 
I too 
Could name it not — could never think of it. 
But as a thing impossible, too dire 
For a dear father's acting ! 

Sholmi. Yet, methinks, 

Yet, jet., perhaps (would we could compass it !) 
The deed of blood, the last, the frightful act. 
Of impious law-requirement, may by thee 
Be blamelessly forborne. 

Jephthah. Alas ! my friend, 

Heav'n, human virtue, faith, lift up the voice 
Against the non-fulfilment. 

Sholmi. Let us strain 

That virtue to the very farthest verge, 
Ev'n overpass the strictness of it*s limit, 
That such an act, to virtue so abhorrent, 
'Gainst which the voice of Nature is so mutinous, 
May, in its homicidal, black performance. 
Be, happily, if but in any wise. 
Made by prevention void : — Thy daughter walks 
A mourner on the mountains ; — Let her there 
Tarry, a stranger to her father's city, 
A stranger to the valleys — there unseen. 
Obscure, unsought, and undiscoverable. 



96 jephthah's daughter, 

Live she, a mountain-nymph ; and, in her absence, 
Let the law's claim, fraught black with cruelty, 
Die, in approved forge tfulness, away. 
So may thine honour, and thy plighted faith. 
Be unimpeach'd, and thy dear daughter's blood 
Pollute not Mizpeh's altar. 

Jephthah. Mean, my friend. 

Were such evasion, for myself inglorious, 
And hateful to the noble soul of her 
Whose life my hasty mouth hath jeoparded. 
She, of clear honour, and unwavering truth, 
But for a time made her retire ; nor now 
Stays she aloof, suspicious, and afraid 
T' entrust her life within her father's gates, 
Confiding in the mountain's solitude 
For her protection ; but, her purpose done 
Of lamentation, to her father's gates 
Hath she committed her dear life again ! 

Sholmi. O fearless bosom ! and magnanimous ! 
How dost thou shame us in our wish to form 
Escapes to rescue thy so-precious life, 
A life the more deserving to be rescued. 
The more thou undervaluest it, and seek'st 
To sacrifice it to thy father's honour ; 
Well are we justify'd in scheming means 



A DRAMATIC POEM. JJ i 

Even over virtue's limitary line, 
To save a soul so noble ! 

Jephthah. Alas! too vain 

The virtuous scheme — within her father's house 
My daughter sits ; — the moon had, yesternight, 
Traveird not far in heaven, when in my court 
I heard the clang of many psalteries — 
She and her fellow-minstrels, with their harps, 
Singing her home arrival to the ears 
Of me and her sad mother ; we, with weeping, 
Within her chamber, greeted her ; our hearts, 
Suspended in a wild distraction, hung 
'Tween joy and grief ; but yet the heavy grief 
O'erweighed th' uncertain joy ; and all the night 
Tears were her father's and her mother's food : 
We wept — but she was calm, and shed no tears ; 
And, ever and anon, her voice was heard. 
During the still night-watches, to her harp 
Singing, with gentle and night- thrilling tones, 
Her ditty, soothing -soft, and melancholy. 

Sholmi. Sweet solace ! token of a tranquil mind, 
Feeding itself on thoughts of pleasantness ! 

Jephthah. Mid such tranquillity of soul, she hath, • 
In consultation with her heart alone. 



98 jephtiiah's daughter, 

Arrang'd the fatal doings of to-day ; 
Ere break of morn the priest had been apprised 
Of her resolve, and order' d to prepare 
His altar, with its fires and implements, 
For her forthcoming at the hour of noon ; 
When, with her father to surrender her, 
She should appear, and give her life away, 
Before the eyes of her assembled country, 
As to her country sold and stipulated. 
These are my daughter's doings and designs, 
Now to her father, and her father's house 

Imparted, as determinate and fix'd 

Beyond recall — a covenant compact 

'Tween her and Mizpeh's altar. 

Sholmi. Woe the while ! 

Alike we mourn the sorrow-charg'd result 

Of that resolve, as we admire and laud 

The magnanimity from whence it springs ! 

Jephthah. Thus hath she all dispos'd, with'placid 
care. 

And unconcern'd, as if she were not doom'd 

To be the chief transactor in the scene. 

But, in degree as she is undisturb'd, 

So is her hapless mother agitated, — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 0^9 

So is lier hapless father's bosom rack'd 

With double pain, as being both the cause 

Of all this boundless family-suffering. 

And fellow-suff'rer, too, from loss of her. 

Now, as her self-appointed hour rolls on, 

As the sun mounts, ascending tow'rds the point 

Of fatal consummation, so ascends 

A father's deep distress and strife of soul. 

On one side drawn by Nature's sweetest cords 

Tow'rds his beloved offspring, on another 

Dragged back, and tortur'd by the iron grasp 

Of an opinion-sprung, yet tyrant, power, 

'Gainst Nature cruel and implacable. 

Assist me, then, my friend ! — Amidst this sea 

Of suffering, let at least the willing hand 

Of thy condoling friendship under me 

Be flung, to bear my spirit up, whenas 

Their former props of consolation faiL 

In vain I look to Heaven ; Heaven seems to frown 

In wrath upon me, even v/hen, to fulfil 

To the least scruple my vow-sanction d debt, 

I overstrain our weak humanity, 

And outrage Nature to appease the Law. 

In my own heart in vain I seek relief, 



100 JEPllTlf All's DAUGHTER, 

For there, from thought to thought repelFd and toss'd, 
A double torment haunts my restless soul. 
Oh, pity me, my friend ! — 'Tis terrible — 
This tumult of the spirit, this wild agony ; — 
Methinks the day-light darkens in mine eyes, 
Before my grief, and, as the bright hours mount, 
Their glory blackens ! 

\^A sound of harps and voices heard 
from below. 
Hark ! again I hear 
The clang of harps — 'Tis of the virgin-choir, 
Mustering to meet my daughter in the court — 
The last, sad, meeting ! — let us hence, my friend — 
And join below the mourning minstrel -train,^ — 
Sad mourners also we ! — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 101 



SCENE IT. 

The Court in the middle or enclosed part of 
Jephthah*s House, 

TiRZAH, Zebah, Jephthah, Sholmi, Nurse, Choir 
OF Damsels. 

Tirzah {entering,^ supported hy her damsels.) 

{To the Damsels,) 
Sustain me, my dear maidens ! aid my steps 
A little onward to the oli re-tree ! — 
(^To her daughter.) O daughter ! from my chamber. 

at the call 
Of thine entreaty, and th' inciting chime 
Of these thy minstrels' many-quiring harps, 
I come — with heavy heart — to see thy face, 
And hear again thy sweetly- warbling tongue, 
Beneath the olive planted by thy sires. 
To screen their children's children in its shade — 
I come — but, ah ! — why see I thy fair form 
So chang'd, thy customed garments laid aside i 
What mean these ominous habiliments 



102 JEPHTH All's DAUGHTER, 

New to mine eye and strange, this head attire 
Of fillets compassing thy beauteous brows, 
This suit of dire apparel ? — Oh ! too plain 
Methinks they speak — thou needest not to tell 
Thy mother, who hath dress'd her daughter thus. 
Or what the fearful import of this change ! 
I see, I see the issue 1 

Zebah. Grieve thou not^ 

O mother ! nor misdeem thou in thy grief ! 
These be the marriage -garments, w"'herein I 
To-day, before the face of Israel, 
Shall marry'd be to glory 1 

TiRZAH. Ah ! that thought 

Too, too divinely for thy mother's peace 
Enraptures thee, my child ! — 'Gainst such unble^t 
Espousals, doth thy mother with these sobs 
Make loud reclaim, nor ever shall her hand 
Give thee away, though willing of thyself, 
Into a glory so obnoxious : 

Oh ! canst thou part from me, my dearest child ? 
Oh 1 can thy father, he who gave thee life. 
He, whose imprudent and o'erhasty lip 
Hath, without reason, without cause, drawn down 
All this tremendous ruin on our house, 
Can he abet these doings, or applaud 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 103 

This thy resolv'd devotedness ? — Can he, 
Guard of thy life, escort thee to the death, 
Bestow thee, in thy guiltlessness, into 
Spousals so full of guilt, and so abhorr'd ? 
Oh ! can he tear thee from thy mother's arms 
For ever ? 

Jephthah. Spare, O consort ! spare these shafts 
Of too just crimination : — this vex*d heart 
Too much already has begnaw'd itself.. 
To merit such dire rackings from without. 
Leave, leave my bosom to its torturing self; 
Sufficient for my fault its own remorse. 

Tirzah. Thou feel'st but as a father — v\^ere thy 
love 
Keen as a mother's — her's who, on her breast. 
Bore the dear child, a portion of herself. 
And fashioned forth of her own blood and substance, 
Thou would'st not thus, with dull indifference, 
O'erlook'd her separation — seen her led 
Ev'n from the shadow of thy father's olive. 
Where thou a child wert wont to play in safety — 
Led by her father to the hideous place, 
Caird by herself of glory, but by me. 
Her mother, calFd a daughter's murd 'ring -place ! 
Oh, no ! she shall not — Is she not my child ? 



104 jephthah's DALGIITER5 

Did not my womb conceive her ? Lay she not 
A suckling in my bosom ? — Thine alone 
She is not — she is mine, her mother's too — 
Ask her of me — beseech me to give up 
The dear, dear treasure of which half is mine — 
Beseech my heart for her destruction — beg 
The daughter s life, an only daughter's life, 
From her much-loving mother ! 

Jephthah, O that Heaven 

Had shut mine ears up in eternal silence. 
Ere through their portals such afflicting words 
Had pass'd unto my heart ! — Be merciful 
To me, my consort ! 'Tis not I that ask 
Thy daughter from thy side — 'Tis Faith, 'tis Justice, 
'Tis Israel's expectation, it is Heaven — 

TiRZAH. Cover not, husband, with such hallow'd 
words 
A deed, the huge enormity of which 
Faith, Justice, Heaven, repudiate — God's bright sun 
Will not shine out upon it ! 
Oh ! 'tis thou— 
Thou art the cause — thine oath — (Heaven frown not 

on me 
For this large freedom of my lip) — thine oath. 
That wicked, most unwise, child-killing oath ! — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 105 

— Bear me, my maidens ! — 

Uphold my tottering frame, till I do speak 

A mother s mind, and utter it thus loud 

Into the ears of all my husband's household, 

To this bright Sun, to Israel, to Heaven, 

That, in the name of Mercy, Nature, Love, 

A mother's love, I do disclaim these doings ; 

Reject, and fling from me, with due abhorrence 

This unpaternal, impious, sacrifice. 

This, this, my husband's blood-burnt-offering ! 

So may my God, my comforter, regard me ! 

Jephthah. And I — most wretched father ! may 

my God 
Admit me too into his consolations ! 
I that do need them most, as most the cause. — 
Uphold me, O my friend ! (To Sholmi) — let thy 

kind arm 
Proj) me amid this anguish. 

Zebah. (Addressing her Mother,) Spare, O 

mother ! 
I do conjure thee, by a daughter's love. 
If I was ever dear to thee, if now 
Most dear and most admitted to thy heart, 
As being soon to pass and travel hence, — 
Have mercy on a father s broken heart, 



106 jephthah's daughter, 

(Already full, and crowded with its trouble !) 

As thou would*st wish to see me ever happy, 

Speak thou not that which can alone disturb 

That happiness with dread of your disunion ! 

O break not up, with soul-exciting words 

That peace, that blissful calmness, into which 

Th' Almighty God hath settled my glad soul, 

And let our parting be an hour of Love ! 

{To her Father.) Be thou consol'd, O Father! — 'tis 

not thou. 
It is Religion, Faith-— 'tis I myself, 
'Tis my own love of country, and of Truth, 
That bear me forth, triumphant, clad in glory. 
Of which these altar- vestments are the type. 
Forth to my stage, the high-place of my triumph. 
Where this mortality shall fall, but where 
My spirit, tli' immortality, emerged 
From its engrossing cover, shall ascend 
Up on it's altar-flame to God and Heaven ! 
One thing I wish, ere I relinquish earth, 
One charge I as my last commit to you. 
Which, as ye love me, care not to pass by — 
O father ! be my mother dear to thee, 
Aye dear, as in my early childhood-days ; 
Because she lov'd her daughter, cherish her, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 107 

That, in her husband's strong affection, 

She may find solace, from her daughter s loss : 

(To her Mother,) O mother ! be my father dear to 

thee, 
Still dear, as when the husband of thy youth 1 
He lov'd his daughter much, and for that love, 
He gave her to be greatly glorilied. 
Set her on high, his country's triumph-price : — 
And, when the thought of me in after-times 
Comes o'er your souls, think not of me as perished, 
Departed, lost, unto my father's house ; 
Believe me ever present, count on me 
In chamber, and in field, as your companion. 
Your bosom -comforter and secret friend : 
Nor say. Our daughter thus hath dyd — but say, 
Our daughter lives eternally ; she hath 
Before us mounted to tK Almighty s ]palace ; 
T* enjoy her jubilee of bliss and glory ! 

Sholmi. (^Aside.) O happy parents ! to have such 
a child ! 
Hapless, oh hapless ! to be reft of such ! 

\_A sound of trumpets is heard 
from without, 

Zebah. Hark 1 'tis the trumpet sounds ! 
I know its speech, — it bids me hie away — 



108 jephthah's daughter, 

It says, the hour is come, when gathered Israel 
Stands ready waiting for the sacrifice ; 
I come, I come — O mother ! may our God 
Apply the bahii of solace to thy heart ! — 
Stay, stay these tears — yet let me hear thy voice, 
In one farewell, one kind eternal blessing — 
One dear and last salute. (Kisses her.) 

TiRZAH. O my daughter ! — 

— Thou goest — Shall thy mother stay behind ? — 
Let me attend thee to the fatal steps. 
And see thee to the last. 

Zebah. Too heavy, heavy, 

My mother, is the burden of thy heart, 
For this thy deem'd sweet-duty ; — with my sisters 
Remain thou here ; — my father and his friend 
Shall walk as mine attendants. 

TiRZAH. Wilt thou part 

From me forever ? — O thou dearest child ! 
For ever part ? 

Zebah. Heaven and my heart, O mother! 
Command me to depart. 

TiRZAH. Oh, sad departure ! 

Most bitter separation ! 

Zebah. Weep not, mother. 

Heaven wills it to be so ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 109 

TiRZAH. Alas ! alas ! 

Most cruel, so — and to a mother's ear 
Most bitter in its speaking — 
Oh ! may God, 

Out of his own high hearen, look down upon thee, 
And bless thee, O my child ! — 
Ah me ! thou carry'st with thee, from this house 
Of tears, a mother's tenderest love and blessing ; 
Once more thou dearest ! 

[_She kisses her^ then sinks doicn^ and 
is horme up hy her damsels. 
Zebah. Heaven's holy peace sustain 

Thy sinking heart, O mother ! 
(To the Choir.) Ye sisters of my soul ! 
(To the Nurse.) Thou faithful dame ! 

\_Kisses them. 
Take this last earnest of a loving heart — 
Farewell ! 
Let us depart, father ! 

\_She takes her father's arm^ and retires 
with him and Sholmi. 



110 jephthah's dalghter. 

The Choir, fSing^ with their harps.) 

1. 

She's gone — our sister soft and dear. 
The maid high-minded, yoid of fear ! 
Whilst every eye around her grieves, 
And every breast with sorrow heaves. 
Sublimely tranquil, forth she moves, 
Follow'd by all our tender loves ! 

2. 

My harp ! my harp ! Oh, feebly thou 
Dost answer to my feelings now ; 
Thy strings, all -wet with eyelid's clews. 
Their wonted symphony refuse ; 
My voice— it trembles as I sing, — 
My fingers, as they strike the string ! 

3. 

how can I refrain the tear 

For her I lov'd so sweet and dear ? " 
With whom, in sunny childhood's day, 

1 wont on Jabbok's banks to play ; 
With whom, on Mizpeh's mountain's high, 
I wander'd, singing mournfully ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. Ill 

4. 

motlier of tlie noble maid ! 
How may thy sorrows be allay'd ? 

1 weep unmeasured — how may I 

Bid thee from weeping stay thine eye ? 
Alas ! no check such sorrows know ; 
Flow then, my tears, in fullness flow ! 



SCENE Y. 



The Street in Mizpeh along which the train 
is passing, 

Hebrew Prophet. 

fThe Prophet advances to meet the tj^ain.) 

O daughter of my prince ! I grieve for thee ; 
All night I have been weeping — on my couch 
Sleepless, and spirit-sunk, from thought of thee ! 
Yet — now — a change descends upon my mood — 
Marvel and Reverence seize upon my soul ! 
When I behold thine innocence, thy youth, 
Thy beauty eminent o'er Gilead's maids. 



112 jephtiiah's daughter, 

Thy filial love, thy sweet simplicity. 
Thy firm devotedness, and height of soul, 
How may I not, amid my flood of tears. 
Be struck with admiration, and with love ! 
Thou, honour to the dames of Israel ! 
Thou, pride and ornament of Gilead's land ! 
Thou, lasting jewel of thy father's house ! 
Now, with thy life, about to satisfy 
Thy country's honour, and thy father's debt ! 
O thou Serene ! that, with triumphant mien, 
Walk'st onward to the pyre — Oh ! go not on — 
Go not — 'tis full of pity and of horror — 
Doth my tongue err ? Is it my too-much love. 
That makes it reel and stumble in it's talk ? 
Go, go, thou maid magnanimous ! fulfil 
Thy soul's great purpose — walking hand in hand 
With thy belov'd, most melancholy, father, 
Precede in the procession of thy triumph, 
Ascend to Heaven — Go, go, to God and Glory ! 
Lo ! gather'd Israel compassetli thee round 
With sweet Compassion, Awe, and silent Love ! 
Nor only these — in future times, thy name 
By Mizpeh's maids in chambers shall be hymn'd, 
And Gilead's mountains shall ring loud with it ; 
Israel's wide land shall not contain thy glory ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 113 

The sea thy fame shall overpass ; the isles 
Of Chittim and the regions yet unknown 
Of farthest west, with honour shall receive it ; 
Men, yet unborn shall take into their lips 
Thy name with celebration, and in tears, 
Like me, shall of thee sing their song of praise ! 
Go then, high-minded damsel ! go to Glor y 



SCENE YI. 
Court of JephthaKs House. 
Messenger, Tirzah, Nurse, Choir. 

Messenger. In sorrow I approach this house of 
tears. 
Intruding, yet with awe and deep condolence, 
Upon a mother's grief. 

Tirzah. O Israelite ! 

Thy tears — thy garments rent — that staining dust — ■ 
Speak thy pain*d heart : — Bear'st thou a farther load 
Of grief, to us already overheapt 
With measureless affliction ? 



114 jephthah's daughter, 

Mess. By command 

Of Mizpeh's priest, I come to Jephthah's house, 
There to relate, though with yet-trembling lip. 
What my tear-flooded eyes have just beheld — 
A sight, though pitiful and full of woe. 
Yet radiant with sublimity — at which 
Assembled Israel, in their gaze, stood struck 
With admiration and astonishment ! 

TiRZAH. Speak forth to me, messenger ! thy 
tale; 
Already charg'd with heaviest dole, my heart 
Can feel no more accession of distress. 
How terrible so'er the purport be 
Of thy distressful, dire intelligence. 

Mess. O thou bereav'd of one, that, when on earth, 
Shone out an ornament to Israel, 
And now hath ris'n, on heav'nward-pointed flame, 
Up to her proper dwelling in the skies ! 
Mother of her, for whom this heart yet throbs 
With pity, these sad eyes yet swim in tears. 
How shall I make recital unto thee. 
Of that which, howsoe'er anticipated, 
Must, in the doing, yet afiect thy heart ! 
Yet be not, child -lorn mother ! overborne 
With grief, that boots not ; — God, in recompense. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 115 

Hath mix'd up kindness with thy suffering, 
And made thee, to thy people, yenerable, 
A mother, and an honour to our land ! 
hear thou, then, though sorrowful, the tale 
Of thy dear daughter's death-procession. 

TiRZAH. Though ghastly be the tale, it doth 
concern me — 
Relate the closing-scene of our distress. 

Mess. Forth from her father's gate, thy daughter 
came 
Beaming with beauty, and complacency. 
Amid the people congregated round, 
Eager, though deeply struck with awe and sorrow, 
To see the victim of her father's vow : 
Grief seem'd to touch her cheek, when she o'erpass'd 
Her father's threshold ; a few glancing tears. 
In memory of her childhood-happiness. 
Like gems of dew, came trickling from her eyes ; — 
That dear, sweet, pang was soon allay'd ; and she, 
With soul angelically calm, and countenance 
Erect, commanding love and admiration, 
Pass'd on in her sublimity ; her father 
Downcast, dejected, scarcely conscious, 
Dragg'd, tardily, and with difficulty, his steps, 
As by her side he wept ; his daughter's arm 



116 jephthah's daughter, 

Sustained him in his walk :— As when the star 
Of Morning, np the causeway of the East, 
(Soon to be quench'd in Day's arrivi ng flood) 
Walks in her ocean-wash'd and burnish'd brightness, 
Receiving, in her heavenly motions, blessings 
From Araby's glad shepherds — so the maid 
(Whose light was soon to be extinguished) pass'd 
In silence on, saluted by the hearts 
Of Israel's tens of thousands ; — most stood mute 
As if in veneration ; some aloud 
Met her with songs, and, in their acclamations, 
Show'r'd from their tongues rich benedictions on her : 
Meanwhile, between her father and his friend, 
This on the left, her father on the right, 
Graceful she mov'd toward the appointed place. 
The altar of her sacrifice, whereon. 
High and exposed afar to view, the priest 
Stood in his long, white, linen, stole array'd ; 
The crackling fire burn'd brightly at his side; — 
She reached the altar's steps ; and, having kiss'd 
Her father, and received his parting blessing, 
(Scarce given through floods of weeping,) she, with 

step 
Untottering, mounted calmly to the place. 
The platform of her death and of her glory. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 117 

Whereat the men of Israel, now beholding. 

As stag'd for th' admiration of the world, 

Her youth, her beauty, and her dignity, 

Hush*d as the grave, their murmur ; Silence chained 

Their tongues ; Suspense, Attention, Pity, Love, 

Held fix'd their eyes, astonied held their hearts ; — 

At the priest's side she took her station ; — then, 

With eyes advancM to heaven, and lips ejaculating 

Prayers for her father, mother, friends, and country, 

Stood, waiting from the priest the fatal stroke ; 

His hand, unwillingly compliant, shook 

And falter'd in its task ; thrice he essay 'd. 

And thrice was disappointed in the gripe ; 

She with a smile looked down, and seem'd to chide 

The trepidation of his quiv'ring hand ; 

At last he rear'd the weapon, and, with head 

Averted, shuddering at his own forc'd act, 

He struck — he struck — 

Into her angel-heart ! 

TiRZAH. Merciful God ! my daughter ! 

Choir. Alas 1 our gentle sister ! 

Messenger. O Israel ! my country ! my 
God! 
Then, then, methought the world unto my eyes 
Grew dim and dark ; Grief prostrated my soul ; 



118 jephthah's daughter, 

And downward to the earth weighed my sad eye. 
Commov*d was Israel's multitude ; th* emotions, 
That in their bosoms had been pent a while, 
Now impotent, burst violent forth ; — all round, 
From every eye gush'd torrent tears ; all round, 
Kose the loud sobs of sympathy to heaven : 
Pity with Admiration in each breast 
Disputed place ; and some cry*d out lamenting, 
" Ah I piteous^ piteous^ day for Israel V* 
Others, aloud, with triumph in their voice, 

Shouted afar — 

" Glory to Israel^ and to Jephthah's house ! 

To JephthaK^ house^ and Jephthah's daughter^ 
Glory ! 

Her father conquer* d Israel's enemy ; 

The daughter^ in her victory^ transcends 

The father's triumph — Glory! Glory! Glory! 

Live^ Live the memory of Mizpeh's maid ! 

Perish the enemies of Israel /" 

And, in a transport rapt of gratitude. 

They have up-rais*d and cheer d tV afflicted father ; 

And now enround and company him home. 

With songs of consolation, and with hymns 

Congratulant, and gently-ringing harps. 

Cymbals, and pipes melodious, whilst their hands 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 119 

Bear braDches of the palm, and other boughs 
Of goodly trees, which, o*er their heads, on high, 
Sun- ward they ware — a triumph, such as that 
Upon the day when Jephthah home retum'd 
Victorious o'er the spoil-gorg'd Ammonite! 
— Hear, hear, their shouting, as aloud they cry ! — 

[_Voices from without, 
^' Glory to Israel, and to Jephthah's house 1 
To Jephthah's house, to Jephthah's daughter, Glory!" 
TiRZAH. Messenger I thy melancholy words, 
That hath summ'd up with sequel terrible 
Our house's loss, yet, yet, so far as such 
A woe can soften' d be by circumstance, 
Carry a little sweetness in their much 
Of bitterness : — My country's sympathy ! 
The consolations of my gracious God 1 
Sustain my heart in its affliction 1 

Choir. 

1, 

My sister went — I too would fain 
Have gone in her funereal train ; 
She bade me stay behind — I stay'd 
To tend her mother as she bade ; 



120 jephthah/s daughter, 

I heard not her last breathed sigh ; 
I saw her not as she did die ! 

2. 

Sweet Sister ! thou art pass'd to God ; 
His palace now is thine abode ; 
While we, thy life's companions dear. 
Are left to weep and linger here ; 
Thy place is empty ; how may we 
Henceforth be joyous, reft of thee ? 

3. 
How shall we now the song advance ? 
How weave the many-mazed dance ? 
With whom walk now beside the rills, 
Or wander high among the hills ? 
She, she is gone, that with her grace, 
And goodness, beautified each place 1 

4. 

O sooner shall the Jordan's wave 
Stream backward to his fountain-cave ; 
Sooner the heavens shall eastward roll 
Their stars, and reel, unfix'd, the pole ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 121 

Than from my mournful soul shall fade 
The fame of Mizpeh's minstrel-maid ! 

5. 

Hills of Manasseh ! shout her name ; 
Valleys of Gad ! repeat the same ; 
On Jordan's either palm-clad strand. 
In Judah's, and in Ephraim's land. 
Let Israel's gratitude proclaim 
The glory of our sister s fame ! 



END OF JEPHTHAH S DArGHTEK. 



ESTHER; 

OR 

THE FALL OF HAMAN; 

A DRAMATIC POEM. 



DRAMATIS PERSON.E. 



Angel of Retribution. 

Ahasuerus (Achshirash), King of Persia. 

Esther (Haclassa), his Queen. 

Haman, an Araalekite or Agagite, his Prime Minister. 

Zeresh, Wife of Hainan. 

Mordecai, a Hebrew. 

Hatack. Esther's Chamberlain, — a Hebrew, interme- 
diary between Mordecai and the Queen. 

Harbonah, King's Chamberlain. 

Zethan, the King's Secretary and Reader. 

Choltah, a Hebrewess, Handmaid and confidante of 
the Queen. 

Hebrews, — Chief of the Synagogue, ]\Ien, Women, &c. 

Persian Water-Carrier. 

Persian Potter. 

Artificers. 

Echo or Bath-kol (Daughter of Sound or Thunder). 

The Scene lies in Shushan, the Capital of the Persian Em- 
pire, where the events take place, whether in the Palace or its 
precincts, the Streets of the City, the Jewish Synagogue, &c. 
The duration mav be considered as beinsr two or more davs. 



ESTHER. 



ACT I. SCENE I. 

Shushan. 
Angel of Retribution. 

I COME, at God's command — here, on this scene 
Of aye-revolving, ever-changeful earth, 
To do the deed which God hath set me to, 
His minister, more prompt than flaming fire. 
For, in this city, Shushan, where, high-thron'd 
Th' imperial Persian sits, and, from his mouth 
Issues the breath, that, or with life or death 
Affects a thousand cities — In this Shushan, 
This, surnam'd of the lily, gay, metropolis, 
A bloody plot hath been conceived, and now 
Is ripe, even to fulfilment : — One bad heart, 
By pride, and spite, and envy, gnaw'd upon. 



128 ESTHER, 

Is father to the black, blood-pregnant scheme- — 

Haman, of Esau's seed, the Agagite, 

Hereditary hater of the race 

Of him, who did his red-haired brother baulk 

Of the dear birthright, sold so very cheap. 

This man, transplanted from Euphrates' banks. 

Where, erst he fed his numerous flocks, hath been 

For service to the empire, here advanced, 

Hath now his golden Mithras-blazon'd chair 

Set high, overtopping it o er all the rest. 

Beside the judgment -dealing palace-gate, 

Where Elam's high-sock'd princes congregate. 

Proud is his port, and haughtily he wears 

His head, as nearest to the sun, and thence 

Commanding bended knees, gifts, rev'rences, 

From the great common crowd of courtiers ; 

Yet, in his exaltation, and his pomp 

Of homages, from judges, magistrates. 

Lieutenants, captains, princes, governors. 

Sheriffs, and treasurers, and counsellors, 

The flower of this prime kingdom, — one non-homage. 

One small neglect — one stiff", uncringing knee. 

Hath dash'd his glutted soul with discontent. 

Shut out self-gratulation, and let in 

Confusion, fury, and self-torturing hate. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 129 

Hating the man tliat bows not, he has doom'd 

To death, not him alone, the recusant, 

But all the people of this non -complyer, 

The sons of Jacob, exiles innocent, 

Scatter d, and sunder'd from their Holy Mountain, 

Sad sojourners in Persians provinces, 

A small Jehovah-fearing folk, amid 

A mighty nation of fire-worshippers. 

And now the warrants of the massacre 

Are written out all fair ; and rapid posts. 
With up-tuck'd garments, riders on swift steeds. 
Mules, camels, and young dromedaries, stand 
At every palace-port, equipt for travel. 
Waiting the sign to start ; — all, all is ready. 
Nought wanting, save the royal ring apply'd 
To seal the written death just fledg'd for flight ; 
And, for the sealing, is this hour appointed. — 
Yet, let the monarch seal, let th' Agagite 
Hatch and o'erbrood his murderous machinations, — 
Let the wing'd shaft stand burning for its flight. 
And Death extend his bare hand for the gripe. — 
Here I am come from God to stop it all, — 
To clog the wheels, whereon this ruin rushes, — 
(As, in the Red Sea's strait, I did confound 
And strike off Pharaoh's impious chariot- wheels) — 

I 



130 ESTHER, 

To interpose the arm that guards the good 

From unjust persecution, and roll back 

Th' intended evil on th' intender's head, 

With retribution tenfold aggravated, 

Ev'n to the world's amazement. — This my office ; — 

And this, the charge by the Most High assigned me, 

To save a guiltless people, and show forth 

Example to a doubting world, that God 

Rewards a man according to his works. 

Has good men in his keeping, nor will suffer 

Malice to triumph o'er simplicity. 

And cruelty to crush the innocent. — 

So shall all good men hope — all bad despair I 



SCENE II. 
Chamber in Mordecai's house. 

MORDECAI, HaTACH. 

MoRDECAi. Be sure, O friend ! there is some 
danger toward — 
Some mustering mischief — some conspiracy 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 131 

A -working in the councils of the state : — 
I pray my God that it may light on me. 
And not upon my country ! 

Hatach. By what signs 

Inferrest thou ought evil ? 

MoRDECAi. As the mariner 

Foresees, in the horizon's troubled edge, 
Confus'd and over-dimm'd with ragged clouds, 
The tempest of to-morrow, so I spy 
In to-day's sinister appearances 
The imminent dark danger. At the gate. 
The gathering-place of princes, where the news 
Accruing from a hundred provinces 
Travel, from mouth to mouth, in free discourse, 
Suspicion low'rs and reigns ; — men do mistrust 
Each other, breaking short the sentences 
They had begun, and turning suddenly 
Their backs to those whom they were just addressing, 
As if they in a moment had discern'd 
Something funereal to themselves or others 
Ensuing on their speech : — The palace, too. 
Travails with some mysterious, new, state-birth. 
Fatal to foreign or to Persian men. — 
Of courtiers entering in or going out 
The countenances are chang'd : — But chiefly he. 



132 ESTHER, 

The Am*lekite, the leather of our race, 

Bears, in his broAvs and eyes, gestures and looks, 

Too visibly impressed not to to be read 

Ev'n by the child, envenomed, deadly rancour 

Against th' unhappy sons of Israel. 

Hatach. There — there — your surmise carries 
likelihood ; — 
For, if from Ahasuerus' cabinet, 
111 should (as you suspect) overtake the Hebrew, 
'Tis he, the Hebrew-hater, from the whom. 
As fountain-head, that mischief must proceed ; 
His spirit there predominates; — the king, 
As table-friend, and boon -companion. 
Admits him daily to his banquetings. 
At which, in high-flush'd moments, when the soul 
Of Xerxes' son veers, like the summer wind. 
Around the sky's whole compass, this breed-bate 
Takes vantage of the wine-flush, and, with art, 
Perverts and warps the monarch's easy mood, 
According to his mischievous own nature ; 
With the king's name, covering, enforcing, wreaking, 
His own malicious, Jew-destroying, schemes. 

MoRDECAi. Too true — 'tis from this friendship, 
bred of wine, 
I chiefly do derive mine apprehensions ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 133 

This man, this Haman, in whose bosom hate 
Holds her vexatious revels, from the day 
In which, through God, I sav'd the monarch's life, 
Has looked upon me with invidious scowl. 
As on a rival, too much bless'd in having 
An honest claim, superior to his own, 
Upon the royal favour ; and with this 
Personal hate and envy, there is mix'd — 
Hate national, the Am'lekites' remembrance 
Of the vale Hephidim, where fell their hosts 
Beneath the sword of Joshua, near the Altar 
Jehovah-nissi, on whose stones was ^rav'd — 
War^ war tcith Amalek from generation 
To generation. 'Tis this double malice. 
This fierce, twin-headed hate, that gnaweth hiui. 
Taints ev*n his eyes with prejudice, and makes 
Him misinterpret men's most simple acts. 
And attitudes, into contemptuous signs 
Admitting no forgiveness. Well I see. 
As through the gate he passes every morn, 
The deep-laid mischief, meant to Israel, 
Flung from his wrathful eyes intelligibly, 
As lightning darted from the lurid cloud 
Marching along with thunder. 

Hatach. From that spite, 



134 ESTHEI?, 

Ere it concoct to action, Lave we not 
^4 surety in our queen, of Hebrew born. 
The daughter of thy brotiier ? 

MoRDECAT. She, indeed, 

I hope will be our safeguard. — O my God ! 
How breathes my heart its gratitude to thee, 
When I do think upon my brother's cbild. 
My daugliter, whom I brought up on my knees, 
My gentle nursling, whom to me her mother. 
Gave on her childbirth-bed of death, in th' hour 
She dy'd, and, dying, said—- To thee^ my hr other ^ 
I give my orphan-infant ; Be to her 
Mother and father ; She shall he to thee 
A hlessing ; God shall richly bless the child^ 
And make her he a Mother unto Israeli 

PJatach. And she hath been, and shall be, as we 
hope. 
Yet more and more a mother unto Israel. 

MoRDECAi. She, more than all the virgins, hath 
obtained 
Favour and grace in the king's sight, and sits 
In the house-royal, with the royal crown 
Upon her head; yet hath she kept concealM 
Her kindred and her people from the king, 
According to the charge that I have given her, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 135 

Not to shew forth her birth, until what daj 

The revelation may be not unseasonable, 

But influence for good the Hebrew name 

And state : — And now, methinks, that likely day 

Is drawing near : — Yet, let us wait, my friend, 

Till the time ripen its yet dark events. 

To justify and prosper the disclosure. 

I shall be watchful of the signs ; do thou, 

Between queen Esther and her kinsman go. 

As one unknowing of her family, 

And be the bond between us. — Till to-morrow — 

I to my gate — Thou to thy palace-duties. 



SCENE III. 

A Room in the Palace, 

Ahasuerus, Ham an (at the Wine-banquet J . 

Haman. My lord, O king! it is a perverse 
people — 
Even from their origin, their father Jacob, — 
Whom Isaac lov'd not, but his mother doated ojn. 
And urg*d the dim-ey'd father to the fraud 



136 ESTHER, 

Whereby poor Esau, cheated of the blessing 

Was banish'd to the desert, there to live 

A prowler, by the sword, and serve his brother. — 

Even from their origin, their foul beginning, 

The people are corrupt ; — Not their own lake 

Of Sodom and Gomorrhah so infects 

The pure-orb'd sun with pestilential taint, 

As do these out-casts our sun-honouring realm 

With their most-loath'd infection ! 

Ahasuerus. Of what strain 

Be their opinions and their laws ? 

Haman. Diverse 

From those of other people ; they despise 
The King's commandments, and, when every man 
In every province, from th' Egyptian flood 
Eastward to Ind's long river, bows the head 
Submissive to thy mandates, this stiff race. 
Obdurate as the rocks of that steep mount 
From whence (they say) the Thunderer gave them 

laws, 
Stand out rebellious, and gainsay with words, 
Alledging, God^ not Fleshy is their commander^ 
Jehovah is their Maker and their Lord ; 
While Ahasuerus is hut Xerxes son^ 
That scatter d them. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 137 

Ahasuerus. Their religious rites, 

And tenets — of what character ? 

Haman. Alike, 

Sav'ring of disrespect, disloyalty, 
And disbelief — their own is all — ought else 
Is nothing, though believ'd by half a world : 
They mock the sun when rising ; and, when others 
Turn their glad faces to the fresh-gilt East, 
Kissing the hand with mouth of adoration, 
They flout with blasphemy the glorious light, 
And, Creature not Creator^ cry aloud 
Even to the Persian's face, even at the doors 
Of Mithras* temple : And, when night's sweet 

queen. 
The sister of the day-rejoicing God, 
Walks in her brightness, and Susanian dames 
Bear forth their little children in their arms 
To doors and casements, thence to greet the light 
And worship it with welcome, then these dames 
Of Jewry hide it from their little ones. 
Fly to back-casements, where they skulking sit 
With faces turn'd towards Jerusalem, 
Giving the fair moon scorn, as being but 
An up-lit thing that doth deserve no worship. — 
These be their blasphemies ; and then their walk 



138 ESTHER, 

And conversation is of similar bent ; 

Their thoughts tend only to their own behoof ; 

Their hands are fangs to clutch huge usury ; 

Their tongues, contemptuous, only laud themselves ; 

Their feet are prompt to chase each sordid gain ; 

In brief, their very garment-hems and sleeves, 

Befring'd with parchments and phylacteries, 

Do utter treason, and defiance cry 

To Persia's King and God. 

Ahasuerus. My father Xerxes — 

Shifted he not these folk from Babylon, 
Where in brick-kilns they toil'd as brick-makers. 
To this our sunny peach-producing land, 
AVherein they, like to griffins, scrape up gold. 
And guard it in deep holes ? 

Haman. He did, my lord ! — 

Maugre their God, whose emblem is the cherub. 
Your sire transplanted them ; — in spite of all 
Their boasting, that they are the blest of Heaven, 
He hurry 'd them unwilling, pushed them off* 
Hand-manacled, before his chariot-wheels, 
And sham'd them of their Glory : — Witness now 
This trophy of your triumph now before us. 
This golden wine-cup from Jerusalem, 
O'er-carv'd with little cherubs, consecrate 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 139 

Once to their temple, now the pretty gaiide 

That garnisheth thy banquets ! (Lifting the cup.) 

Ahasuerus. By the tombs 

Of my forefathers ! 'tis a goodly goblet ; 
See how, with mantling, interlaced, wings, 
The well-pair'd angels of Jerasalem 
Float, in the rare embossment of their gold, 
O'er the gemm*d coffer lodg'd beneath ! 

Haman. It is 

A grace to Persia's banquet. 

Ahasuerus. Then, fill it high 

With Pasagardian grape -juice, and up-drink 
The beverage to the bottom, as the sign 
Of exultation o'er the prostrate Jew ; 

f Haman^/Z^ it and drinks. J 
And fill it too for me, when thou art done, 
That I may revel with thee — 

(The King takes the cup from the hand of 
Haman, and drinks.) 

Ha ! — Our land 

Of Persia must be purg'd — the sun no longer 
Can brook these weeds of Jewry rankling on 't, 
And fattening in that sunshine they abhor. — 
Another cup — (Haman Jills.) 

And brim it full and high 



140 ESTHER, 

With Chalybonian ! 



■ Now — To Persia's God ! 



And may his worship dominate in tK earthy 
As he at mid-day rides upon the sphere ! 

(The King drinks^ and gives the cup to Haman.) 
Drink Hamao, to the God — Can the grape's blood 
Be fitlier used than thus to glorify 
Him, by whose beams it is matured ? me-seems, 
This Syrian- wine from this Jerusaiem-cup 
Tastes sweet and sweeter. 

Haman. (Aside.) Mantling in the pate 

Of royalty, I ho23e 'twill generate 
No good for Jewry. 

Ahasuerus. Haman ! hath your mandate, 

Ordering the death of these fire-flouting men, 
Been seal'd and sent ? and hath the month and day 
Been fix'd by the Chaldean's astrolabe. 
As fortunate most for the doom'd Jews' misfortune ? 

Haman. My Lord, here is the death- writ fairly 
drawn. 
Waiting the impress of the royal ring ; — 
Wherewith, by your permission — 

Ahasuerus. Stamp it, Haman — 

Give it the final pass, to make it roam 
All-current, as good coin. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 141 

Ham AN. Then, before 

Your eyes, I stamp it — thus — 

\_He seals the icarrant. 

Ahasuerus. Now call the Chalclee, 
And let him, with his star-perrading glance, 
Determine the good time. 

Haman. My Lord, from month 

To month, from day to day, I have been wearing 
The stairs o' th' court-astrologer*s abode, 
Courting his lucky answer ; — I cast Pur, 
Before his presence every day at noon. 
That stars might ratify what lot cast up ; 
But, till to day, it seem'd each planet fought 
Fierce against Pur ; and our Chaldean sage. 
Star-conversant, forbade the undertaking, 
Saying one day, that Mercury was thwart^ 
And on another^ now is Mars conjoined 
With Ophiuchi^ an ill-omen d place 
0' th' zodiack^ that hreeds nought hut late and bane. 
But ho ! to-day, at noontide, when I shook 
Purim before him, and they pointed out 
The thirteenth day of Adar for the work, 
Then did our chop-chang'd Chaldee clap his hands. 
And cry, Now Pur icith Planet harmonizes^ 
Noic is the moon in a most lucky house ; 



142 ESTHER, 

Now^ Venus ^ Mars^ and Jupiter in trine 
Conspire in Heaven most prosperously for plots 
Begun on earth 1 Now^ Hainan^ to your work ! 
The stars are yours — onward icith your good stars ; 
Men may he untrue^ hut the stars are sure ! 
Whereby, my Lord, encouraged, I have brought 
All forward towards completion; and the posts 
Stand at your palace-gates, accoutred all 
For quick dispatch. 

Ahasuerus. Then, let them fly like cranes, 

East, North, South, West — let loose by my com- 
mand : — 
They cannot rush too rapid for the work. 

Haman. My Lord ! not only shall their flight 
be quick. 
Their execution, too, shall be effectual ; — 
They shall empower, excite, exhort thy people, 
To kill, to cause to perish, and destroy. 
All Jews, their children, and their little ones, 
Both young and old, in all the provinces, 
On one same day, upon the thirteenth day 
Of the month Adar — Tis a day that shall 
Be richly-red with Jew-blood ! 

Ahasuerus. In the calendar 

Mark'd with a flaming rubrick ! — See their spoil 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 143 

Up gathered be by Shazgaz for a prey, 
And heap'd into our treasure-house. 

Haman. The dogs 

Are rich — it shall be done ; — so perish all 
The king^s bane-breeding enemies ! 

Ahasuerus. 'Tis settled — 

Now fill the fair Jerusalem-cup again, 
Brimful for the confusion of our foes ! 



SCENE lY. 

Chmnber in Hainan's Palace, 

Zeresh, Haman. 

Zeresh. Here comes my Lord, alJ glowing from 
the palace, 
And redolent of courtly news ! Methinks, 
His high-curv'd brows speak more significantly 
Of honours, than i' th' morning, when he past 
His house's threshold.— Welcome to my Lord ! 
Thrice happy day ! and joy ! for now his house 
Seems saturate with good fortune, and with honour. 



144 ESTHER. 

Haman. Honour and joj ! — 

Daughter of Tatnai ! what, and where, are they ? 
What are a thousand honourers, when one vile 
Dishonourer stares me in the face each morn, 
Marring the day's whole triumph ? — 
How I hate him ! 

This Mordecai, this proud, unfawning Jew, 
That stands alone, a pouter with his lip, 
Amid a congregation of sweet smilers ! 
Why — this same morn, when up the palace-court, 
The levee-place^ where courtiers congregate, 
I pass'd, to have a parley with the king, 
I saw him standing sullen as of yore, 
A pillar of contemptuousness ; and when 
My train of satraps, chancellors, and scribes. 
The Lords of Media and of Bactriana, 
Prince Tharubis and noble Ariomard, 
Duke Datames and Prince Artembaces 
And Arsaces the Duke of Arachosia, 
With other noble servants of the king, 
Approach'd me, with becoming rev'rences. 
As saying, TJiou^ Haman^ art our Lord ; 
We put our necks below thy lordly feet 1 
Then this haught Jew did seem to plant himself 
Industriously before my very path, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 145 

And, as I pass'd, did turn his eye askance, 

And crook'd his form to uncouth attitude, 

Forsooth, in mockery, as reckoning me 

But a poor shadow passing, as a thing 

Of less importance than the buzzing fly 

That hover'd round his turban : — But, by Mithras ! 

I have him — 

Him, and his total Amalek-hating race. 

Proscribed, death-doom'd — for this — for these insults 

To me, and to my house ! 

Zeresh. Not less, my Lord, 

At home have we been watchful to secure 
Revenge for thy spurn'd honours. — In good sooth, 
This study'd niock'ry touches our whole house. 
And merits, in its turn, an exquisite 
And study'd punishment ; — There is preparing, 
Here in our dwelling's very heart and centre, 
A show- place for our vengeance, — 

Ham AN, Thank you, dame ! — 

Why — 'tis most seemly that this mocking Jew, 
This joy-dispelling Mordecai, should not 
Die darkly by a vulgar Persian poniard. 
Like his Jew-brethren, in the gross : — No, no, — 
He must be half-rais'd to the heaven for this, 
Aye — aggrandized in 's taking off. — Hast thou, then, 

K 



146 ESTHER, 

O'erseen to-day the work, tliat yester-eve 
Thou with thy father's brother Arisai, 
Didst recommend ? — Yea, marry, I do hear 
The clank of merry hammers in my court ! 

\jBe hears the sound of the icorkmen. 

Zeresh. My Lord, the tree is up 1 Look from the 
window 
Down on thy court, and see how diligent 
Thy consort, and her uncle Arisai, 
llaye, in thy absence, tended to their task ! 

Ham AN. {Looking from the casement,^ A goodly 
gibbet, fair, and high to see ! 

Zeresh. My Lord ! th' artificer declared it was 
The stateliest pine that e'er, from Zagra's mount. 
Swum down to Shushan on Choaspes' flood : 
He cuird it out from all his work-yard store ; 
A tree of fifty cubits, that might top it 
Above thy palace-pinnacles. 

Haman. I like 

Its altitude and fashion well ; — the man, 
Fore-doom'd to dangle from it, shall be seen 
From Shushan's every street. — Now let this tree, 
Which is set up so graceful to my mind, 
Be garlanded all gay, its top festoon'd 
With the Spring's prettiest flowers, its every bough. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. I47 

Trunk, branch, and twig, set round with Shushan's 

lilies. 
To captivate the eye. Send forth thy maidens 
Round, to the meadows, and the riyer-banks. 
To gather pink and primrose for its dress. 
So shall this evening see its flowers ; to-morrow 
Shall see its fruit dependent. — And, sweet dame, 
See thou the carpenter be well rewarded ; 
Prepare a dainty banquet in the court 
For him and all his craftsmen : — At the foot 
Of the tall gibbet let them have their feast. 
And drink, till midnight, a prolong d carousal, 
For their good work completed. — Now, my soul 
Is somewhat eas'd by this imposing prospect. 
Seen from ray casement ; — soon our jeering Jew, 
Peace-murdering Mordecai, shall handsel it ; 
And he that, living, bow'd not, shall in death 
Quiver each limb and feature in my honour ! 



148 ESTHER, 



SCENE Y. 

Interior inclosure^ or Court-yard of Hamans 
Palace. 

Artificers. 

1st Artif. Drink to my Lord Duke, Haman ! 

2d Artif. To my lord ! 

3d Artif. The son of Hamdatha, and glory to him, 
And to his house ! 

1st Artif. May all his enemies 

Hang as rich apples on this goodly tree ! 
We sing and drink their dirge, ere yet they're dead. 

2d Artif. Friends ! we are here face-merry ; 
but, I trow. 
Some heavy bodement hangs about the heart, 
I feel it, dragging us all down to sadness. 

3d Artif. True, true — 'tis but a poor, unseemly 

joy. 

To quaff thus — 'neath a gibbet, howsoe'er 
Good be the wine, and generous be the treater. 
1st Artif. My heart misgives me — I do bode 
some ill — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 149 

Little men know who set a gallows up 
Who, in their turn, may get the usufruct. 

2d Artif. Ay, sooth, it is a mad unhallow'd thing 
To sit a-drinking here, as now we do, 
Under the shadow of a gallows-tree. 
As if it were a palm or mulberry ; — 
I wonder how we 'greed to 't : Heay'n forgive us ! 

3d Artif. Yon rising moon is ominous — I like not 
The ugly halo gathering round her rim ! 

1st Artif. See'st thou yon owl upon the left- 
hand turret ? 

2d Artif. I see an ugly raven on the left. 

3d Artif. Hark ! how the huge, tall gibbet 
creaks ! It twang'd 
Through all its length a melancholy sound, 
As if the ghost of the uprooted tree 
Was parting from it. 

1st Artif. Tis the midnight wind 

Whistling amid its tops. 

2d Artif. A dreary sound 

Sings down from Haman's Palace. Things like ghosts 
Seem dancing on the pinnacles ! 

3d Artif. The sky 

Gathers a storm, and lightning-freighted clouds 
Stream up from the sea-gulf. 



150 ESTHER, 

1st Artif. Hearst ih&u not 

The thunder mutter on the rim of heaven ? 
Such clouds ! — their blackness seems to come from 

hell, 
To terrify and thunder-strike the world ! 
Would we were hous'd, safe from these heavy rain- 
drops ! 
Away, away — this storm confounds our wassail I 

\_Exeunt, 
Echo (or Bath-kol) Voice from Heaven amid 
the thunder-storm, 
'Tis fit — 'tis fit — it is a fitting tree. 
And fitly set, for Haman and his house ! 
Let the voice go rebounding through the heaven. 
Concordant with the thunder's dreadful roll — 
'Tisjit — 'tis Jit — it is a fitting tree ! 
And fitly set ^ for Hamaji and his house.. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 151 

ACT IL SCENE I, 

A Boo7n in the Queen's Palace. 
Esther, Choltah, 

Esther. What mean these tears, mj Choitah ? 
Why dost thou 
Avert thy face from thy Hadassa thus, 
And sob, in secret, o'er some unknown grief, 
Deem*d all-unworthy of thy mistress' ear ? 
Thy sister-handmaids, too, that heretofore. 
Were wont to meet me with salute of smiles, 
Have chang'd their cheer;- — 'twas yester-noon we 

walk'd 
Within my garden, plucking in our sport 
The springing flowers, and ever and anon 
We sat us down in some rose -braided bower 
To listen to thy sweet voice- wedded harp ; — 
Then every face beam'd gladness ; — but, to-day. 
There is no joy — what means this drooping cheer ? 
Daughter of Achzah ! tell me ? 

Choltah. O, my lady ! 

My Queen ! my mother ! grief drives back the words, 
Which thy august commandment bids me utter ! 



152 ESTHER, 

Esther. O, if thy queen's command, thy mother's 
wish. 
Thy friend's compassion, be of ought avail, 
Check, if thou can'st, the grief, and let thy words 
Reveal to me its cause : What hath befallen 
Thee, or thy kindred, or thy tribe, in Shush an. 
That thus thou weepest ? 

Choltah. Not for me alone 

I weep, nor for my kindred, or my tribe ; 
A wider sphere doth occupy my grief; 
I weep for Israel's captives ! 

Esther. They are driven, 

Like chaff, wind- wafted from the thrasher's floor, 
Afar, in every land throughout the world, 
The very proverb, and the pointing-stock, 
Of idol-worshippers, and heathen folk, 
The mock'ry of their children, as they pass 
Through streets and sorry lanes — what worse can hap 
The harassed children of Jerusalem ? 

Cpioltah. Afflicted though they be, driven forth 
their land. 
And overheap'd with sorrows, yet — they breathe ; 
Though life to them be but a fiery furnace. 
Thrice-heated with oppression, yet— they live : 
Now, ev'n this mis'ry-fraught, poor privilege. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 153 

Is grudg'd them, and a mightier blow impends 
To blot them out of being ! 

Esther. From what hand, 

Or what deviser ? 

Choltah. From some wicked heart 

Of Persia's Court, our country's enemy, 
Ev'n in the palace where thou reign'st as queen. 
Thine uncle Mordecai, the son of Jair, 
Got cognisance beside the palace-gate 
But yesterday ; and soon the tidings flew 
Like fire across a withered wilderness. 
Dreadful, from house to house, from street to street : 
The city Shushan was perplex'd ; the son 
Of Jair, sackcloth-girt, with ashes smear' d. 
Went out into the midst of this great city, 
And, with a loud and bitter cry, he cry'd. 
Through street, and square, and lane, bewailing loud 
Himself and brethren, with a shrieking voice, 
So dismal, and so full of melancholy, 
That even the dogs that kennel'd lay, alarm' d. 
Answer d in howls of horror from each house 
Of Shushan as he past : Meanwhile, his brethren 
Sat shivering in their dwellings' darkest nooks. 
With fasting, weeping, wailing ; many lay 
All night in sackcloth, wallowing in the dust. 



154 ESTHER, 

Tossing in terror, lest some bloody sword, 
Unseen till the death-blow, should suddenly 
Be struck into their hearts. 

Esther. Alas, my country ! 

My brethren and my sisters ! Woe that we 
Seem born for very trouble, — that our cup, 
No sooner drain'd down to the dregs, again 
Is fiird with bitterness ! — So wrathful man, 
God's agent, oft has, with his wise permission, ; 

Already wrought against us, and once more 
Plots malice : — But the wrath of man, performed. 
Shall praise Him, and its useless, base remainder, 
Shall be restrained. 

Choltah. Our hope is set in Heaven, 

And, under Heaven, in her whose royal head 
Wears the rich diadem that Yashti wore. 

Esther. Frail is the trust in creature that is born 
Of woman, but, when God invigorates. 
The weak say, we are strong : — The son of Jair, 
Mine uncle — wherefore doth he keep aloof. 
Mid such alarm, concealing curiously, 
As of set purpose, from his brother's daughter. 
The project that is published ? — Yester-eve 
I look'd out from my lattice, seeking him 
With anxious eye, where he was wont to take 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 155 

His daily walk before the women's court ; 
But his place knew him not. 

Choltah. He came, my Lady, 

Ere sunset, to the gates of th* outer court, 
Claiming as wont, admission to the queen ;— 
But clad in sackloth-vest, he came ; his head 
Defil'd with ashes, and with dust, up-caught 
Ev'n from the trodden street ; and thrice he sued 
For entrance, — thrice the royal porter chid him 
Back with harsh words, saying, — No man was suffer d 
To pass the king's gate cloth' d in such a garh I 

Esther. So, Persia's law forbids that I should know, 
From his own mouth, mine uncle's sorrow i — jet 
'Tis not forbid that, through some other mouth, 
Some internuncio of mutual faith, 
I should be let into his inmost thoughts ; — 
Shall Elam's queen, alone of all her people, 
When dangers gather round, sit in her palace 
Unconscious, and uncareful ? — Call in hither 
The trusty Chamberlain, that waits on me 
Attendant by the king's commandment ; — 

[^Choltah, retiring^ calls the Chamher- 
lain^ who appears. 

Hatach ! 

Go seek mine uncle Mordecai, that stands 



156 ESTHER, 

Upon the city-street, before the gate 
Of the king's palace — take with thee a robe 
Of princely worth, and tell him, 'tis my wish 
That he do doff his hairy sackloth - vest. 
And put his queen -presented garment on; 
And bid him tell the cause that covers him 
With mortifying vestment, that I may 
Know what it is, and why it is : — 

[]Hatach retires. 
Now, my damsel. 
Reach me my harp, that I may solace me 
With one of Zion's solemn-thrilling airs : — 

(She sings to the harp.) 
1. 
O Zion ! though thy beauty be! 
Cast down by Him that dwelt in Thee ; 
Although thy once glad ways do mourn, 
And thou art now the Heathen's scorn ; 
Yet, yet, my thoughts do linger still 
Upon thy Cherub-shaded hill ! 

2. 

Ah me ! the hymns that once were sung, 
To many a harp by Israel strung. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 157 

Are silent now ; in all thy streets. 
None now with song his brother meets ; 
Thy gates are desolate a«d lone, 
And all thy gladness now is gone ! 

3. 
Thy daughters, once so blooming-fair, 
Afflicted sit, and dimm'd with care ; 
Thy priests, and elders, sackcloth-bound, 
Weeping, sit silent on the ground ; 
For bread, thy high-nurs'd princes cry ; 
And all thy woe-struck people sigh. 

4. 

Thine enemies are now the chief ; 
Thy spoilers glory in thy grief : — 
O God ! as thou wert wont of old, 
The troubles of my heart behold ; 
My soul is humbled in my cry ; 
Remember, Lord, my misery ! 



Yet, yet I hope, when I recall 
To mind his former mercies all ; 



158 ESTHER, 

As God his ire liath shown, his love 
So will he magnify, and prove ; 
The Lord is goo% therefore I will 
Hope in his boundless mercy still ! 



SCENE II. 

Chamber in the Palace, 

Esther, Hatach. 

Esther. -Hatach appears — his countenance all- 
serious, 
Foregoes his tongue, and, in its silence, doth 
Prelude with heavy look his sad report : — 
What be the tidings, Hatach ? Didst thou find 
The son of Jair walking in his place ? 
And what his answer to the queen's request ? 

Hatach. I found the son of Jair in the court, 
Before the king's gate, walking pensively. 
Clad in his uncouth, hairy garniture. 
I stood before him, but he saw me not ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 15^ 

So strongly did his spirit work in him ; 
His eye seemed rooted to the spot of ground 
O'er which he pac'd ; he smate his thighs ; he beat 
His breast ; he sobb'd aloud ev'n to the heavens ; 
And cry'd, or seem'd to cry, with broken words,— 
We are the people that have seen affliction I 

Esther. O, utter not these lamentable words ! 
Into my breast like arrows thej descend. 
To cut into my heartstrings : O my people ! 

Hatach. I wept, and stood apart ; — I could not 
speak, 
For weeping o'er his j^itiable plight, 
So sad, yet so majestic in his woe ! 
Thrice I advanced — as oft I turned back, 
Lacking the courage to fulfil my charge, 
And break upon his melancholy mood : 
At last, when in his storm of grief there seem'd 
A pause, again I stepp'd before his eye ; 
And said — The queen commands thee, son of Jair ! 
I hare a special message from the queen. 
She bids thee put aside thy sackloth-vest. 
As bad of bodement, and to clothe thyself 
In this fair robe, embroider d by her hand, 
All-over- woven with lilies and with flowers ! 
At which, I show'd the garment, when he turn'd 



160 ESTHER, 

His eye aside — he would not look upon it — 
But thrust it from him, with a flood of tears. 

Esther. His, his, indeed, must be a mighty grief, 
That thus perverts dear objects, and doth change 
What most should please, coming from those he loves, 
Into a thing delightless, as from those 
He hates ! 

Hatach. And then, he rais'd his voice, and said — 
Take back the broider'd garment to the queen ; 
Tell her, her kinsman, in the present woe, 
Dare not allow his sorrow-stained eyes 
To look with pleasure on her gorgeous robe. 
Though woven and broider d by her gentle hand. 
The son of Jair has no heart to wear 
A dress of joy, amid the fearful griefs 
That gather o'er his nation :— At the which, 
I charged him, in your royal name, to tell 
What he had learn' d from princes at the gate, 
Or noisy rumour in the public streets. 
Of those impending, dark, conspiracies, 
That I might, to the queen^s ear, carry back 
Tidings of what she so desir'd to know. 
But knew not. 

Esther. What his answer then ? 

Hatach. He open d 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 161 

To me the secrets of the barbarous -plot ; 

Told me of all had happen'd unto him ; 

How that the son of Hamdatha, who saw 

The king's face daily, and, of all the kingdom, 

Sat at the royal table first, had hatched 

The scheme, through hatred at the name of Jew : 

How in his zeal t' extirpate and sweep off 

That name from under heaven, he had engaged 

To pay to the king's treasuries, a sum 

Equivalent to all their tribute's produce, 

Thereby t' induce the king to ratify 

His scheme, and seal it with th' imperial ring : 

He gave me, too, a copy of the writing 

Of the decree, at Shushan given, whereby 

The Elamite is ordered to destroy. 

Cut off, and kill, all Jews, both men and women, 

From under heaven : — 

He bade me show the queen 

The scroll of meditated massacre — 

{^Gives her the ivriting. 
And to declare to her the urgency. 
And charge her, in his own and people's name. 
That she shall go in, strait, unto the king. 
To supplicate him, and to make request 
Before him, for her people. 

L 



162 ESTHER, 

EsTPiER. What can I, 

Alas ! mean instrument ! to frustrate such 
A wickedness, unless my God go with me ? 
Strengthen the weak, O God ! 

Hatach. The king, he said, 

O'erreach'd by bad adviser, in an hour 
Of table -gaiety, and heat of wine. 
Hath been drawn in t' approve the Haman-plot, 
Unknowing, as he hitherto has been. 
Of the queen's kindred ; and he charges thee — 
Thine uncle charges thee, O Queen — to show, 
(What hath not yet been shewn, nor yet reveal'd) 
Thy family and lineage to the king. 
And how the people, for the death proscribed. 
Are the queen's people. 

Esther. O, my God ! sustain 

My bosom for this trial ! 

Hatach. And then he said, 

Answer the queen (and here he rais'd his voice 
Into a forc'd tone of severity), 

Answer the queen, think not that thou the daughter 
Of Abihail, more than all the rest 
Shall 'scape in the king's house ; for, if thou hold 
Thy peace at this time, then shall there arise 
Enlargement and deliverance to the Jews, 



A DRA:\rATIC POEM. 163 

Eveu from anotlier place ; but thou, and all 
Thy father's house shall be, for thy neglect, 
Exposed to malediction and to wrath 
From thine own people, hating one that might 
Have sav'd, and sav^'d not : — And who knows if God 
Hath not, even for this purpose, that thou might'st 
Rescue his people in a time like this, 
Advanc'd thee to the kingdom ? 

Esther. Would to God 

Twere so — Heav'n second that thrice-bless'd i?ug- 

gestion. 
Even to the full wish of my anxious heart ! 
Yet, I am fearful in this enterprise 
So full of peril and of moment ; — I 
Have not, these thirty days, been call'd to come 
Before the king ; and it is known by all 
His servants and his people, that whoso 
Uncaird, shall, whether man or woman, come 
Before the king into the inner court — 
There is one law — shall straight be put to death, 
Excepting such to whom the king shall hold 
The golden sceptre out, that they may live. 
Such is the law of Persia, and it stands. 
Yet, notwithstanding this life-threatening bar, 
I, with my God to help, will gird me up 



164 ESTHER, 

And fortify me for an enterprize, 

Which doth require a maniy fortitude : 

Mean, weak, and frail, may in the hand of Heay'n, 

Be the poor instrument ; but He, who sits 

On high, a vast fulfilment oft evolves. 

Of power beyond a giant's arm ; — The wife 

Of Heber, in her tent, accompiish'd what 

The warlike son of Abinoam could not, 

With thousands at his feet. — Hatach, go back. 

Report to Mordecai, as from the queen, 

This answer, — That he gather all the sons 

Of Jacob, that in Shushan's city be. 

And fast ye for me ; neither eat nor drink, 

Nor night nor day ; whilst I, and all my maidens. 

Will likewise fast ; and so will I go in. 

Unto the king, although the law forbids ; 

And if I die, I die :— My people shall not 

Perish, while Abihairs daughter lives ! 

Hatach ! bear to my uncle this resolve : — 

The queen, into thy hands, as being one 

Of her own faith and kindred, unto whom 

Her privacy hath been intrusted well. 

Commits these messages and nice affairs. 

Requiring secrecy and quick dispatch — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 16*5 

Thyself, as wont, prove worthy of thy trust. 

\_Exit Hatacii. 
CThe Qtjbbis 2^ra7/s.J 
O Thou, my father s God, my only Rock 1 
Amid an overflowing flood of griefs, 
O hear thy servant's voice, who sits forlorn 
And desolate, within the stranger's house. 
Estranged from country, kindred, comforter, 
Remote, alone, without a counsellor. 
Without a helper — save my God alone ! 
By thee, have I been holden from the womb ; — 
Without a father, without mother, thou 
Hast been to me as father, and as mother, 
Ev'n from my years of tenderest infancy, 
80 that my praise hath ever been of thee. 
Help me, O God ! a woman desolate, 
In this the time of her affliction ; 
Remember my distress ; and in thy love 
Make thyself known, as friend and saviour, 
Unto thy meek and poor afflicted ones. 
O bless thy servant with a confidence 
Infus'd divinely by thy Spirit's power, 
T' abide the trial that awaiteth her ! 
Fill thou her heart with boldness ; touch her to 11 one 
With eloquence, that, for thy people, she 



16^ ^ ESTHER, 

jNIay plead with winning sweet audacity, 
And free them from the raging lion's mouth. 
Let those, that are thine adversaries, be 
Covered with shame, confusion, and reproach. 
But let thy people's heart be comforted 1 
God of the helpless 1 be my God and help ! 



ACT III. SCENE I. 

Bed-rootn in the Persian Palace. 

Ah AsuERus {cdone^ 'with tapers burning before 
him, J 

Where is thy dwelling, life-repairing sleep ? 
Hast thou a temple in the city Shushan, 
That I, a king, may search thee out, and court 
Thy grace, and bribe thy midnight serrices, 
With Ophir's gold, and India's pearls, and all 
The heaps of Cyrus's vast treasure-house ? 
If thou in Shushan haply hast somewhere 
Set up thy drowsy, dreaming, tabernacle, 
I trow, 'tis not within the precints of the palace, 
Where cares, and aye-suspected ambuscades, 



A DRAMxVTIC POEM. 16*7 

Scare men upon their beds : — No, it must be 

In some poor lane of my metropolis, 

Where potters, toil worn at their ^vhirling wheel, 

Arm-exercising smiths, feet-plodding porters, 

Yext water-carriers, with their swinging pitchers. 

And other craftsmen that all day ne'er rest. 

Rest richly in the night-time : — 'Tis too true — 

The son of Xerxes, 'neath his cedar-pillar'd 

And golden-curtain*d canopy of state. 

Sleeps beggarly, whilst the poor sandal-maker, 

Whofti yesterday I spy'd plying his trade. 

And singing in his booth like nightingale. 

Sleeps on his thin, unbolster d truss of straw, 

Ev'n as a king should sleep. — Now, would I give 

This palace of my sires, with all its bravery. 

For the poor, lean-flesh'd, handicraftsman's slumber ! 

Certes, *tis the gold-couch that has infection. 

Attracting towards its glare a crowd of cares, 

And fears, and jealousies, and wild alarms, 

That buzz eternally like gadflies round it, 

Tormenting the vex'd temples of the slumberer : — 

Fy on thee, gold-gilt ! — How are men deceived 

By the vain glossy superfice of things ! 

My subjects, as they pass before my palace, 

Cast up their eyes, in an admiring gaze, 



168 ESTHEK, 

Upon the glittering roofs and pinnacles 

Of this my king's-house ; and they think, good folk, 

Good, simple folk, they think that he within 

Is as superbly happy as his dazzle 

Bespeaks without : — They know not — but I know 

Who sleep not, when they lie upon their beds 

Sound sleeping : — 

But methinks, the lazy dawn (looking through the 

casement) 
Is long a-coming; — I must while away 
This heaviness, and entertain the time, ' 

Ev'n till the golden horns of Mithras peep, 
With recreation, meet to lull the mind. 
And bless it with some benefit. — My Scribe, 
My faithful reader and admonisher. 
Who in th' adjoining chamber ever waits. 
At the king's call obedient, night and day. 
With voice, ton'd clear, and ink-case in his girdle, — 
Will read me out some solace : — 
Zetiiar ! (He calls the Secretary.) 

Approach — bring out the royal Archives-book^ 
And read to me, until the cock do crow, 
The court-affairs there-noted, fittest food . 
For a king's mind to meditate upon. 
And regulate thereby his daily v»^alk. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 169 

(Zethar enters with the volume.) 
Zethar. My lord, king ! here, in my hand, I 
bear 
The Archives of your reign, and that of Xerxes : — 
What portion of the annals shall I read ? 

AriASUERUS. Trim now the tapers, good my 
secretary ! — 
Now — 

Begin thou from the third year of my reign. 
When the queen Yashti disobeyed my word, 
Nor came to shew her beauty to my people : 
f Zethar reads the history as contained in the Book 
of Esther, Ch. i. aw. 3. to 21.) 
An Asu ERTJ s. (^ Interrupting , ) 

Ay, so it; was — it happened right and well ; 
Yashti was punish'd, as her crime deserv'd 
Of disobedience, banish'd from the court. 
To the lone castle on Singara's mount, 
Where old Semiramis in summer-time 
Liv'd till the swallow did flyback again 
To nestle 'mong the Ethiops ; She was punish'd 
As she did merit, and will learn obedience. 
Upon the summits of Singara's mount. — 
Now read the royal Persian journal on. 



170 ESTHER, 

(Zethar reads^ as contained in the Book of Esther, 
from Ch. ii. 2i.J 
Ahasuerus. (Interrupting,) 

Teresli and Bigtlia ! — Desperate death-devisers ! 
Insatiate yearners for the blood of kings ! 
I startle yet, when I to mind recall 
My narrow death-scape, on that perilous day : 
I had just lain me down, for noon's repose, 
In the cool alcove of my summer-house, 
Suspicionless of all the world, and least 
Of my two chamberlains ; yet these two men, 
That were entrusted with my chamber's care. 
Had fix'd that hour for my dispatch : — But thanks 
To my good angel, and good Mordecai, 
The king-defender, (who had overheard 
The traitors talking of their stratagem,) — 
Ev'n in the middle of their ambuscade, 
Where they did lurk, by the pavilion's door, 
Mid the thick shadow of the pomegranates, 
With poniards in their sashes, they were caught — 
And hang'd forth-right on one of these same trees. 
Whose sacred shadow they had violated. 
Before the windows of my summer house. 
'Twas a becoming termination ! 
For this, to Mordecai, what hath been done. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 171 

What dignity or what reward ? — Hath he 

Been, by a royal firman, set to rule 

O'er seven- waird Ecbatan, as he deserves, 

The faithful servant that did save my life ? 

Or, been appointed lord of Babylon, 

To govern, with a proved and honest mind. 

The brick-hous'd people of Semiramis ? 

Zethar. My Lord, he vralks about these palace- 
courts 
Unhonour'd, unrewarded, unextoll'd. 
For these deserts ; — I saw him yesterday, 
Without a robe of honour, meanly cloth'd. 
Unnoticed, unsaluted, disregarded. 
Amid the multitude of Persian princes. 

Ahasuerus. In this, there is neglect — It is not 
meet 
That he, that sav'd the son of Xerxes' life. 
Should wander unrequited, and obscure ; 
He must be honour'd, and that not obscurely, 
But in the sunshine, and the highway view 
Of our great city Shushan, that my subjects 
May see how well the king requites the man 
That sav'd the king's life by fidelity. 
And learn from his example to be true. — 
— Is Haman in the court ? — The dawn peeps in 



172 ESTHER, 

Now at our windows — I must speak with Haman, 
Regarding this our faithful Mordecai. 

Zethar. My Lord, I will despatch a messenger, 
Ordering his presence in the cabinet-room. 

Ahasuerus. This is the error, fault, or pest of kings, 
That faithful men, and upright, who have wrought 
Good service to the king or to the state. 
Shrink backward in their virtuous modesty, 
Aye dreading to molest with forwardness, 
And hence are overlooked, or quite forgot ; 
Whereas the forward and the proud, whose claim 
Is but for shallower services, rush in. 
With bustling mien, and clamorous demand. 
Teasing the monarch for such high reward 
As he, the doer, rateth wherewithal 
His own misdeemed and over- valued merits. 
But worth is best known by its modesty^ 
And un-worth by its noisy forwardness. 
This fault, the brand and obloquy of kings. 
Shall be to-day corrected and redeemed, 
By my advancing one good, honest man ; 
And Shushan, with one voice, shall cry— The king 
To-day hath honoured merit icith its meed I 



A DRAMATIC POEM. i i '4 

SCENE II. 

Chamber in Hamans House. 

Ham AN, Zeresh. 

Haman. The king has sent for me, my dame — 
'Tis good, 
Ev'n in the earliest morning-watch, to be 
Up-rousVl from slumber at the call of kings : — 
'Tis the prime pleasure — 'tis no breach of rest. 
To be disrested when the monarch cries, — 
Arise and rouse ye for our empii'^e's need ! 
I am his counsellor — treasurer — his father; — 
Without my arm to prop, the creaking cart 
Of state-affairs would soon be overset 
In Elam. — Haply, now 'tis some arrival {to himseJf.) 
Of foreign tidings from the Caspian, 
How that the Persian forces, warring there, 
Beneath the standard of Pharandaces, 
Have chas'd th* erratic, restless, Scythian 
Beyond the Oxus, up to Marakand, — 
Haply, from th' empire's other limit, where 
Beside the rain- washed mountains of the moon, 



174 ESTHER, 

TLe sun-burnt Ethiop carries on the war, 

Rebellious, with the brave Mjgabates ; 

I wish the Tirhakah were soon put down ; 

So would I put up, in his kingly place, 

My son Parshandatha ; — his brother rules 

The spicy coast of Seba, opposite 

From Aden eastward to the Homerite ; 

So would the brother's mutual seigniories 

Be brotherly, and neighbour-like adjoin : 

The king's my friend, and will not hesitate 

T' advance my sons, as I shall point him out. 

Fit exaltations for their father's rank : — 

But — haply 'tis none of these — 

Perchance, some crying home-affair — some points 

Of nicer execution and detail. 

Touching the better, cleaner, taking off 

Of these same Jews, death-claim'd ; — of whom the 

chief 
Shall swing in heaven — his scaffolding is made ; 
Tlie rabble shall lie wallowing on th' earth : 
Our gibbet yearns, as hungry for his prey. 
The king's assent lacks only, which I will 
Secure in this our morning-consultation ; — 
And then — the gallows-tree for Mordecai ! 






A DRAMATIC POEM. 175 

Zeresh. So be th' eyent, my husband ! — thus I 
pray- 
Thus hope — yet some sharp prickle of misgiviug 
Sprouts up amid my flowery heap of hopes, 
Stinging my spirit into some alarm. 
I did not like the colour of my dreams 
Last night ; — The magi say, that gloomy dreams 
Portend th' occurrents of the aftertime. 
Methought, as I stood gazing on the sun, 
He, in a shower of ashes, fell from heaven 
Upon my lap ; and, as I look'd again, 
I saw a bright archangel in his place, 
His face like to the lightning, and his voice 
Like to the bellowing thunder, as he cry'd, — 
TJi Almighty doth extinguish this bright thing 
In Elam*s view^ and^ constitutes himself 
TK eternal fountain of all life and light ; 
And then his hand unroll'd a scroll, whereon 
Was written, — God will render a reicard 
To the proud doer ; the meek man will see it^ 
And be made glad. At which, I was afraid. 
And woke. I pray the omen may be vain 
Touching myself, my husband, and my children. 



176 ESTHER, 

SCENE III. 

. Room in the Palace. 

Esther, Choltah. 

Esther. Dawns yet the day, my lian Jmaid \ 

Choltah. Ere I clonib 

The palace-stairs, I saw the morning-star 
Dive his bright-spangled head into the blue 
Ocean of Heaven, before the stronger light 
That rose up to supplant him. 

Esther. Open thou 

My chaijiber-casement — let me see the daAvn — 
Uncurtain all the lattice, that the light 
Unhinder d may come in. 

Choltah. To-day, the god 

Of Persia seemeth to rejoice in triumph. 
As being the high holiday, wherein 
His fiery worship is, by Persia's sons, 
To be in public solemniz'd. 

Esther. No marvel 

The sun, that rules the day so gloriously, 
Scattering his light over a thousand lands, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 175 

Should, by admiring men, be deify'd : — 
Look at his golden coronet of rajs, 

{Casting her gaze from the window.^ 
As up he springs above yon eastern hill, 
Filling with light the distant vales, that seem 
To clap their hands with joy at his return ! 
Look at his nearer flood of radiance 
Flung o'er fair Shushan's roofs and pinnacles ! 
Behold the tree-tops of our palace-garden 
Bespangled with the morning's dewy tears ! — 
Lo ! how the citron, palm, and pomegranate, 
And rose-bush, where our sweet Memnonian bird, 
The Bulbul, sits a-singing to his rose. 
Enkindle up their beauties to the morn. 
And, with a whiter and more fragrant bloom. 
Embower our palace in their branchy arms ! — 
Look at these beauties, and these splendours all ; — 
Look at the sun, — the marvellous instrument, 
The glorious work — and praise thou Him that made it, 
' — Choltah ! I do not worship God's bright sun, 
Yet, in this glorious dawn, and day of joy, 
I joy me, too, as one that worships him. 

Choltah. 'Tis piety, and conscious innocence 
That form the day-spring of the happy mind ! 

M 



176 ESTHER, 

Esther. Yea — so, my dearest handmaid ! — Sure 
'tis thence 
That I'm to-day so fully of gaiety : 
Oh, how my bosom strangely fluctuates 
Between alternate confidence and fear ! 
Last night I laid me down upon my couch 
In heaviness, and, when I thought upon 
My people, and my kindred, in affliction, 
A flood of tears gush'd forth upon my pillow. 
Yet God pour'd out upon my laVring soul 
The spirit of sweet sleep, (to his belov'd 
He giveth sleep) ; and all the night I lay 
Rapt into bliss, mid golden- winged dreams, 
'Scaped from the crystal-gates of Paradise, 
Such as are only known to happy minds, 
Peaceful and pure, of whom th' Almighty makes 
His angels, fiery-wing'd, the guardians. 
And now mine eyes are lightened, and my heart 
Braced with celestial fortitude, t' achieve 
Deliverance and enlargement to my people, 
If God shall, in a feeble woman's hand, 
Prosper salvation. — But I must prepare 
For this day's proper doings. — Hast thou learn'd, 
From palace-talk, or rumour, at what hour 
To-day, the king comes forth to occupy 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 177 

His royal throne within the royal house, 
Conspicuous to his court ? 

Choltah. To-day, O Queen ! 

Being the festival which Shushan keeps 
In honour of her full-orb'd God — to him 
At mid-day, Persia's monarch, with the flov\^er 
Of all his princes, in the palace-court, 
Burns, in a golden grate, a sacrifice 
Of India's choicest spices. 

Esther. At the hour, 

Say'st thou, of mid- day ? 

Choltah. When their restless god, 

That like a post-haste courier flames along 
From east to west, on Heaven's star-studded road, 
Coursing in pomp around the zodiac, 
Darts down direct a perpendicular ray 
Upon the city Shushan. 

Esther. Then, my Lord 

Comes forth ? 

Choltah. The king of Elam then comes forth, 
Array'd in all his many-colour d robes, 
The high tiara set upon his head. 
Gorgeous with gold, and rows of radiant pearl : 
And, having fired within its chafing-dish 
That odoriferous ofiering, he takes 



178 ESTHER, 

His seat upon the royal throne, within 
The royal house, right o'er against the gate, 
There to receive, from his assembled princes, 
The homages, and salutations, due 
From liegemen to their lord. 

Esther. The time will suit, 

Th' occasion well agrees — 0, 'tis all set, 
Arranged and methodized, methinks, by heaven. 
For a rejoicing issue ! — Go, my handmaid, 
Prepare my jewels, and my royal crown. 
Mine Indian odours, and my oil of myrrh. 
My ivory- palaces of cassia. 
For this day's most approved and pious uses : — 
Unlock my choicest wardrobe, where repose 
My mantles of wrought-gold, my moon-like tires. 
My aloes-breathing robes of needlework. 
All the rich garb, wherein I was apparell'd 
What day I first appeared before the king, 
And he did set the royal crown upon 
My head, and made me queen instead of Yashti. 
I must betrim myself to-day in all 
My rarest ornaments of royalty ; 
Arm me, all over, with a woman's power ; 
Enshrine my person in a majesty, 
A tenfold majesty, of living charms, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 179 

'To take by force, and ravish from my lord 
His heart, with stronger love than on the day 
Whereon he queen d the child of Abihail : — 
What saith my handmaid ? Doth not Piety 
To God, and to my kin, alike approve 
The seemly stratagem ? Doth not the aim 
Make innocent, yea, sanctify the deed ? 

Choltah. Let my queen do, as her inspired breast 
Solicits her, for such embolden'd thoughts 
Can only come from some inspiring source. — 
I go, thine handmaid, to fulfil thy charge. — 
As blessed is the aim, so be the art 
Crown'd, as it merits, with a blessed issue ! 



SCENE IV. 

Cabinet in the Palace, 

Ahasuerus, Ha man. 

Ham AN. My Lord, O King, I come at thy com- 
mand. 
To hear thy royal bidding, and obey. 



180 ESTHER, 

Ahasuerus. Haman 1 I find there are some 
oversights 
In this our kingdom's daily governance. 

Haman. Let the king hint his world-command- 
ing will, 
And what hath been o*erpass*d, in negligence, 
Shall be recovered by swift afterthought. 

Ahasuerus. Haman — I find that, in our Persian 
court. 
Honour is lame, and, after honest merit, 
Comes limping, impotent to overtake 
And 'rich her with due favours. 

Haman. Then, my lord, 

If honour should be found, at Persia's court, 
Haply to halt or loiter in his pace, 
Speak thou, and he will straight resume his speed, 
And rush to overtake the honour-worthy. 

Ahasuerus. Let Honour, then, at my command, 
wax swift 
Of foot, and lag not so dishonourably. 

Haman. What doth my lord, by these too-dubi-- 
ous words. 
Enjoin his servant to perform ? 

Ahasuerus. To him, 

O Haman 1 whom the royal choice selects 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 181 

To deck and dignify with special grace, 
What shall he done ? 

Ham AN {To Minself.) It is of me he speaks — 
Me, me, he means — to whom more than myself, 
Delights the king t' extend his special honour ? 
Me his right arm ! 

My lord, O king, for him (To the king.) 

Whom thou delightest in thy royal mind 
To deck and dignify with special grace. 
Let be brought out the royal yestments all 
Which the king useth on state-days to wear, 
And the gold-bitted steed whereon he rides. 
And the crown-royal which is set upon 
His head ; and let this steed, and this apparel, 
Unto the hand deliver d be of one 
Of your most noble princes, that he may 
Therewith array the man that thou de lightest 
To honour ; and, on horseback, through the streets 
Of this great city, bring him, and proclaim 
Before him, with the sound of many a trump, — - 
Thus to the faithful man shall it he done^ 
Whom the king gratefully delights to honour I 

AHAsrERUS. Make haste, then, Haman ! take 
the royal robes, 
Wherein at Yashti's feast I sat arrayed. 



182 ESTHER, 

And take the steed whereon that day I rode, 
And do, as thou hast said — even all so do, 
To — Mordecai, the Jew, that daily takes 
At the king's gate his seat — let nothing fail 
Of all that thou hast spoken. 

Ham AN (with surprise,) It shall be, 

My Lord, done all according to thy word ; — 
(To himself.^ But with a forward and inverted will. 
Most cross unto the visible performance. 
To Mordecai ! — the death-designed Jew ! 
The man that sitteth forward in the gate ! 
Confusion covers me at this command ! 

ACT lY. SCENE I. 

Jewish Synagogue, 

Hebrews, Hebrew Women, and Children. 

Choir of Hebrews Clinging,) 
I. 
Thou, whose dwelling is on high, 
Whose palace-precincts are the sky ; 
Whose shadow is the mid -day sun ; 
Whose glory hath been seen by none \ 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 183 

Look on us, Lord, thy children, here 
Assembled in thy love and fear ! 

Choir of Hebrew Women. 
2. 

O Thou whose hand, with easy sway, 
Guides huge Orion on his way, 
And gently to thy purpose brings 
The hearts of people, and their kings, 
Look on us. Lord, thy children, here 
Assembled in thy lore and fear ! 

Men. 
3. 

Swifter than eagles, Lord, are they 
Who persecute us as their prey ; 
They hunt our steps in street and way ; 
They chase, insult us, and waylay ; 
Unless thou help, our end is near ; 
Help, help thy children. Lord, and hear ! 

Women. 
4. 
As maiden's eyes to mistress' hand 
Look tremblingly, and wait command. 



184 ESTHER, 

So here, in our afflicted state. 
Our eyes upon the Lord do wait. 
Till mercy he and help afford ; 
Have mercy, hear, and help, Lord ! 

Both Choirs of Men and Women. 
5. 
All day, from morn to noon I cry ; 
From noon to dewy eve I sigh ; 
My grief-worn eyelids know not sleep ; 
I sit and wail, I watch and weep ; 
I cry, I shout, in my despair ; 
Shut, shut not out, O Lord, my prayer ! 

Choir of Children. 
6. 
Hear us, our fathers' God, as we 
Spread out our little hands to thee ! 
O wipe away our mothers' tears ; 
Still, still, O Lord, our fathers' fears ; 
Our childhood-sobs we join with theirs : 
Hear, hear O Lord, the childrens' prayers ! 

Chief of the Synag. (Interrupting the singers,) 
Pause ye, my friends, and give a little rest 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 185 

Unto your loud lamentings and your prayers ; — 
Danger and Death are now most imminent — 

\Tumult is heard from without^ whilst 
the outer gate of the Court of the 
Synagogue fixes open. 
Hark, the loud din without ! — The barred portal 
That safeguards our assembly — 

1st Elder. — Is thrust open — 

2d Elder. And one, who seems a palace-officer, 
With eager step and mien, advances hither. 
Fraught with important tidings — 

Chief. Hark ! without 

The fury musters, and makes dreadful head : — 
List ye the outcries, and wall-piercing noise 
Of Shushan's raging people in the streets, 
As if all banded and tumultuating 
Against us miserable — 

1st Elder. The din of tongues 

Increases, and draws nearer — 

2d Elder. 'Tis the people ! 

O mercy ! 'tis the people ! — On our heads 
Comes bursting now their fury ! 

Chief. If we die, 

O friends 1 let us die here — within our house, 
Our holy house of sacrifice and prayer. 



186 ESTHER, 

Before our altars, with our wives and children, 
Our congregation of dear fellow- worshippers, 
Gather d around us ; — from God*s house on earth, 
Let us ascend unto God's house in heaven. 
With prayers for our enemies ! 

Men. Gracious God ! 

Shield us from human wrath ! 

Women. Oh, shield us, Heaven ! 

Children. Save, save us Gracious God ! 

\_The inner door of the Synagogue noic 
is seen to ope7i. 

All. Woe unto us ! Our hour — our hour of death — 
[[Hatach, the Chamberlain of the Queen^ 
enters suddenly, 

Hatach. Rejoice, O sons of Zion ! Sing with joy, 
O ye her weeping daughters ! Clap your hands, 
Ye little children ! Now your cup hath passed, 
Mercy and peace now visit you from high ! 

Chief. O to our God be praise ! 

All To God the praise ! 

Hatach. Your cup hath pass'd — your cup of 
trembling, charged 
With the full fury of malicious man, 
Hath passed your lips, untasted, and returns 
Back to the mouth of him who charged it, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 187 

The dregs whereof that mouth of wickedness 
Shall wring out, and shall swallow, till his bowels 
Shall with the burning draught be all consumed ! 
Rejoice, ye sons of Israel ! — Now your dawn 
Of joy, and light, and honour, is up-sprung ; 
A cup of consolation hath been mix'd. 
For you, your sons and daughters, by the God 
That guards the exiles of Jerusalem ! 

Chief. Our tears of sorrow by these welcome 
words 
Are changed to tears of joy — one little moment, 
On whose sharp edge suspended, life and death 
Hung, as it were in balance, hath achiev'd 
A change of mighty moment, which our souls. 
Wasted with weary weeping and distress, 
Have, in its fullness, scarce the pow'r t' enjoy. 
Or, in its suddenness, to comprehend. 

1st Elder. Tell us the grounds of our imparted 

The heav'n-made means of our deliverance. 
That we may, calmly, and by slow degrees. 
Glide into the full measure of our mirth. 

Hatach. To Him, who turns and twines the 
hearts of kings. 
As waters of a garden -rivulet. 



188 ESTHER, 

According to his pleasure — to Him, first, 
And, next, and, under him, his instrument. 
To Elam's queen, is your enlargement due. 

2d Elder. O tell us all the process, and the manner - 
Whereby that glad fulfilment came about ; 
That, whilst we joy in the result, we may 
Mix with that joy our gratitude and praise 
To the thrice-blessed causers of our joy. 

Hatach. The queen, as you do know, had liv'd 
aloof 
For thirty days, within her palace-chamber. 
Unseen, uncalled, uncherish'd, by the king ; 
Hence, when the bruited news came to her ears. 
How that her people were mark'd out for death. 
Throughout her empire, on one slaughterous day, 
To perish all, to be destroyed and slain. 
Her Persian realm to be their slaughter-house — 
Disconsolate, drooping, desolate, she sat. 
Fearful yet fain, heart-wavering, yet willing 
T* intrude with supplication on the king ; 
For Persia's law is binding, that whoso 
Shall penetrate the king's interior court, 
Uncaird, shall die — excepting such to whom 
The king his golden sceptre shall hold out — 
Yet, yet in face of this death-threat'ning bar. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 189 

And, in defiance of the Persian usage, 
Emboldened by her virtue, and her God, 
She dar'd to violate th' unforgiving statute, 
And hazard and expose, even to the teeth 
Of patent death, her royal life and person. 

Chief. Alone, and unattended, did she pass 
Within the perilous, forbidden precints ? 

Hatach. Alone, unguarded, unaccompany'd. 
Save by her own unconquer'd majesty, 
Her host of noble king-subduing charms. 
I saw her in her beauty ; clad in all 
Her robes of royalty ; her diadem 
Magnificently set upon her head ; 
Her gestures more than royal ; and her steps 
Moving divinely to sweet harmony. 
As if some angel, chiming in the spheres. 
Adjusted and attun'd their heavenly motions 
To his sky-ringing lyre. 

Chief. The throned king. 

What thoughts or feelings did he manifest 
At this, his queen's intrusion ? 

Hatach. The king, 

Having just lighted up his incense-grate 
To Persia's God, was sitting on his throne 
Exalted, with his servants all about, 



190 ESTHER, 

On right hand and on left, a noble row 

Of princes, Persia''s flower of chivalry, 

Doing their homage to the fragrant flame, 

That fluttered up its spiry tongues before them, 

As if to greet the sunny mid-day god, 

The father of all dim terrestrial fire ; — 

When, silently, with seraph-step, the queen 

Came in among them, like Aurora's breath. 

By stealth from the rich chambers of the dawn, 

Into the heart of some rose-braided bower : — 

In front, yet distant a brief space, she took 

Her place ; and now was standing eminent 

In all her beauty's bright magnificence. 

Fair as the moon, when, from the Indian sea 

Emerging, full, and round and clear, she comes 

Upon the eye of mariner, that sails 

Round by Comaria's fragrance-flinging cape. 

She stood, majestic in her modesty ; 

And, with her look, omnipotent, yet meek, 

Before her, and all round about her, seem'd 

To operate enchantment, where she stood. 

The princes stood at gaze, and marvelling 

At what might be the cause, and what the sequel. 

Of her so venturous approach : The king 

Sat captivated, spirit-bound — his eye 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 191 

Caught and compelFd, as by a charm, his soul 

With admiration ravish'd and with love. 

He sat a moment thus ; — suspense, meanwhile 

Strangled each breath — and then the monarch held 

The golden sceptre, that was in his hand, 

The sign of favour, and of dear acceptance. 

To the queen forth, and she with grace drew near. 

And touched the top of th' sceptre. 

Chief. Caught thine ear 

With what words he accosted her ? 

Hatach. " What wilt thou ? 

Queen Esther ! said he, " What is thy request P 
Ev'n to my kingdorris half^ it shall he given thee :" 
And the queen answered, — " 1/ it shall seem good 
Unto the king^ let the King come^ and Haman 
This day^ unto the banquet^ that for him 
I have prepardJ" — '' Cause Haman to make haste^' 
Reply'd King Ahasuerus, " that he may 
Do ichat Queen Esther says^ and come to-night 
Unto the banquet that she hath prepared/' 
And Haman goes to-night unto the banquet 
Queen Esther hath prepared. 
With such a sequel, 

So glorious to the queen and to her people, 
So ominous, and with disaster big 



192 ESTHER, 

To Hainan, as to-morrow will give proof, 
Was crown'd this trying and eventful hour ! 

Chief. And Shushan*s people — know they these 
events, 
And celebrate them, or with cries of wrath. 
Or shouts congratulant, that thus their din 
Is heard ascending round us ? 

Hatach. Tush — my tongue, 

Though rapid in its joy-deliverance. 
Hath not as yet been able to overtake 
This other gladness - sealing incident! — ■ 
As from the palace-garden, I came hither, 
Charg'd by Queen Esther to communicate 
These tidings to her kindred gather'd here, 
Lo ! at the top of the great street, that from 
The palace leads to Shushan's western gate. 
Were standing the queen's uncle Mordecai, 
And the arch-plotter, th' Hebrew-hating Haman, 
Environed with a curious multitude 
Of princes, and plebeians, summon'd round 
By clarion's call to witness and partake 
The spectacle about to be shown off; — 
Beside them stood the noble-headed steed, 
Whereon the king, through Shushan's streets, is wout 
To ride, trapped gallantly, and into foam 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 193 

Champing his golden bit, as if he scorn'd 

To feed on ought but Ophir's beaten gold. 

The trumpets sounded then ; and Haman took 

Th' apparel which the king is wont to wear, 

With the crown royal which is set upon 

His head, and, in the sight of God's bright sun, 

And all the Persian people, did array 

With these the man he hated, Mordecai ; 

And held the stirrup to him, as, with shouts 

Congratulant from all the multitude. 

The Jew was mounted on the royal steed. 

Which seem'd to bow down gently to receive 

A rider, by his master honoured so ; 

And — Thus shall it he done unto the mail 

Whom, for his truth, the king delights to honour ! 

Was loud with merry trumpet-clang proclaim'd : 

I followed in their train, as down they past 

Through the great street, whilst th' humbFd I-Iainaii 

walked 
Before the steed whereon the Hebrew sat. 
And ever and anon proclaim'd aloud, — 
Thus, thus shall it he done unto the man 
Whom, for his truth, the king delights to honour ! 
Thus, hath the faithful Hebrew, who preserv'd 
The life of Persia's king, by Persia's king 



194 ESTHER, 

Been honoured with an honour almost kingly. 
I left the street tumultuating, full 
Of glad applauders, that, with loud huzzas. 
Follow the Jew's triumphant cavalcade ; 
Whilst Haman walks a-foot, as heralding 
The glory of the Jew. 

Chief. To God the glory ! 

To him, who smite th through the cursed proud, 
But beautifies the meek with his salvation. 
Making him high in honour ! 

Hatach. In this joy, 

Felt more intensely from preceding grief. 
Having discharg'd my happy embassy, 
I leave you, friends ; and, from your house of prayer, 
Now not th' abode of weeping, will report 
To the queen Esther our dear kinswoman, 
Your gladness and your holy thanksgivings. 

Chief. Heav'n's grace be rain'd in richness on 
our queen, 
The minister of God to us for good ! 

All (singing,) 
1. 
Thee, thee, O Lord 1 I'll magnify, 
For thou hast lifted me on high ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 19.5 

My foes, that sought me to destroy, 
Thou hast not made o'er me to joy ; 
O Lord, my God ! I cry'd to thee, 
And thou hast heard and healed me ! 

2. 

Weeping, and woe, and sad affright, 
May tarry with us for a night ; 
But joy, so soon as night-shades fly, 
Comes riding up the eastern sky ; 
O Lord, my God, I cry*d to thee. 
And thou hast heard and healed me ! 

3. 

O thou, my glory ! praise and bless 
Him who relieved my souFs distress ; 
My tongue ! my harp 1 my heart ! extol 
Him, who hath heal'd my sorrowing soul ; 
Him, who hath set me up on high. 
Him, him, my glory ! magnify ! 

4. 
O sooner shall the rising sun 
Forget his day-long race to run. 



196' ESTHER, 

Sooner the moon forget to move 
Her ever- wheeling orb above. 
Than my glad soul forget to bless 
Him, who hafch heaFd her deep distress ! 



SCENE II. 



The Street of the City, 
Persian Potter, Persian Water-carrier. 

Potter. Whither so fast, my pitcher- friend ? 

Water-carrier. Why, homeward, — 

Home to my fruitage-supper — somewhat gnaw'd 
By hunger — and no wonder, having march'd 
All day from th' upper to the nether town, 
In the procession of the honest Jew. 

Potter. Saw ye it out from first to last ? — I 
stay'd 
But the beginning. 

Water-carrier. Tuts — I saw the whole, 
From where the king's apparel was put on, 
To where the high-brow'd Haman took it off, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 19? 

And the huge rahblement of Persian folk, 
Cry'd, — Long live Mordecai, the honest Jew ! 
It a was day — few days like this in Shushan ! 

Potter. So now our king his honour hath re- 
trieved. 
And paid, though late, the heavy-hanging debt 
Of gratefulness to the good foreigner. 
Who sav'd from the twin cut-throats, Persian-born, 
His valued life. 

AY ATER -CARRIER. True, true, as says the saw 
Of Zoroaster — Gratitude, though late, 
Is better than no gratitude at all. 
Yet, after all, Achshirash is a king 
Not naughty-hearted, as your kings now go ; 
May-be he is too prompt, and nimble-passion*d, 
And, when the grape's-blood quickens him, men say, 
The simoom-tempest gets into his veins ; 
He's quick and furious or for good or ill, — 
Rather for good than ill, when following 
His own complexion ; but when, having done 
Ea^I, from evil counsel, he detects 
Himself as naughty doer, he rebounds 
Back into good with such a devil-fury 
That good men are astonish'd, and hold up 



198 ESTHEK, 

Their hands upon their eyes, as if asham'd 
Somewhat of goodness. 

Potter. Ay, friend, such the state 

Of kingship — Kings withal (between us twain), 
Are but a hapless generation ; 
They say, Achshirash does not sleep a -nights. 
Rests in his ease- couch very ill at ease. 
Bolts up at midnight, as if thistle -stings 
Had sprouted from his bed-clothes, cries for lights, 
And will have some amusement made of noise, 
Poets (your Persian) — readers — dulcet singers, ^ — 
To tickle his King's-ears, and drive the demon 
Down from his palace to the dark town-lanes, 
Where you and I inhabit. 

Water-carrier. Let him keep 

His kill-sleep Demon to himself ! Would but he, 
When visited with these unsleepy spasms, step down 
Into the quarter of the water-carriers, 
We would him learn, and lesson, well the trick 
Of sleeping soundly : — A good pair of pitchers. 
Appended to his shoulders, and all day 
Well-swung and dangled round from street to street, 
With weight of water for the water-buyers, 
Would work out slumber for him. 

Potter. Nay, sweet friend. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 199 

If lie for this needs bodily exercise, 

He'd get a better jading at my pots ; 

Would lie but take a blood-uprousing spell 

Of day-work at my foot- whirled, bickering wheel, 

111 warrant good his majesty a night 

Of noble sleep, sufficient for a king. — 

But, hush — of good Achshirash ; — let him pass ; — 

Observed you Haman's face, the Am'lekite, 

To-day, as he walk'd on ? E'er saw you features, 

"Wherein, by Nature, Pride had built her nest, 

Squeezed and contorted to such agony 

Of self-restraint and curs'd dissimulation, 

Proving a spirit yex'd and mortify'd. 

As his, when he paraded through the streets. 

As beadle to the good man Mordecai ? 

Water-carrier. I did enjoy the anguish of his 
face. 

Potter. But the good Mordecai ; albeit he had 
Upon his head the crown of royalty, 
And the king's garment flaunting from his shoulders — 
Saw'st thou his simple, unassuming, bearing, 
How meekly, modestly, he sat it out. 
Blushing at all the honours forc'd upon him ? 

AYater-carrier. I mark'd him well ; and thence 
I do affection 



200 ESTHER, 

This self-same Mordecai : — Albeit a Jew, 

I'd rather have him for my creditor, 

Than yon high-look'd, proud-hearted, Am'lekite, 

Who seems to look upon the sun and moon, 

As chiding them that they do shine upon 

Another human creature than himself; — 

So tower aloft to heaven his Babel-brows ! 

Potter. True — true — his towering top doth reach 
the heaven ;-— 
Yet, yet, methinks, as thou remarkest well, 
I'd rather owe this Jew a thousand darics, 
Than twenty silverlings to this haught Haman, 
Whose every feature scowls, and would up-rip, 
Ev'n froift your bowels, the few silverlings. — 
Certes, these Hebrew folk are evil spoken of, — 
Both men and women — Persia's babbling tongues 
Scourge them too strong ; — what though they have 

their God, 
And worship him according to their guise ? 
They're loyal subjects, and they're honest men. 
— But come, let us pass hence — Pray walk with me 
* Home to my tenement in Potter's-lane ; — 
There we shall sup on peaches and on pease. 
And, in a homely cup of potters'- ware, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 201 

Be pot-companions, honouring the health 
Of the meek Mordecai, the faithful Jew. 

\JExeunt. 



SCENE III. 

Chamber in Hainan s Palace, 

HamaNj Zeresh. 

Ha MAN. Sweet wife ! The planets of this luckless 
day, 
Have turned yesterday all upside down ; 
Would I had been in Midian with my flocks. 
By the rock Jokthan, where a wall of cliffs 
Had hedg'd me in from the huge infamy, 
And shame, and disappointment, and confusion. 
That met me every step I took to-day 
In many-streeted Shushan ! 

Zeresh. O, my Lord ! 

Ambition has its little stumbling-blocks. 
Snags of obstruction, that do, now and then, 
Still catch and intercept the foot of him 
Who marches up the mountain of world's grandeur. 



202 ESTHER, 

*Tis but a petty tingling of the toes, 
For one poor moment ; when the stound is o*er, 
Onward and upward doth the great man march 
With doubly-quicken'd pace, until he reach 
The summit, where he stands a-top, a-towering, 
With nought between him but the sun and moon, 
His fellows in the higher ranks of being. 

Ham AN. {In a reverie,) By Mithras and the 
heavens ! 
I hate him — who? — the man that moves not, bows not, 
Whose name I cannot utter with my lips, 
But deeply, deeply, lies it in my heart 
Inseparably coiFd up as a serpent. 
O may Arabia's vultures tear that heart 
Out from my tossed and tormented bosom, 
Ere it shall ever entertain a thought 
Less full of sweet hate and malevolence, 
Towards the man that so deserves my hatred ! 
May Midian's rav'nous eagles from my temples 
Peck out my eyeballs, ere they brook the sight 
Of him — the hated ! 
Of him, in any other attitude. 
Than — hang'd up as a jewel-drop to deck 
The tree made ready for his execution ! 
But how ? and what ? — monstrous ! O confusion ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 203 

Hang'd up !- — How can these hate-engender' d words 
Be reconcil'd with this day's forced practice ? 
'Twas I, that cloth'd him with the king's apparel ! 
'Twas I, that set the crown upon his head ! 
'Twas I, that rear'd him on the royal steed ! 
'Twas I, 'twas Haman, that went on before him. 
And cry'd aloud, that all the city heard, — 
" Thus, thus, shall it be done unto the man, 
The faithful man, the king delights to honour." 
Fie on the mouth, that could have utter'd it ! 
Shame overwhelm my face, that could endure 
To face out the indignity practis'd 
Upon myself in crying out his dignity ! 
Yet — all this I brook'd out — and here, within 
My own house, not far from the gallows-tree 
Rear'd for his death, I cowardly do live 
To think of it, to fret at it, and say, 
'Twas I, that cry'd his honours ! 

Zeresh. O my Lord ! 
Accuse not thou thyself in thus enacting 
Such incongruities of thought and deed. 
Thy hatred is consistent, marching on 
In even tenor, and commendable. 
Sheer to its aim and end — thine en'my's ruin :-.- 
It is the king, thy master's, waywardness 



204 ESTHER, 

Haman. The king, my master ! (I may speak of 
him ; — 
Our chamber's roof is not overlaid with ears — ) 
The king, my master, is as wavering- wild. 
As wind, and wave, and weather all together ; 
Is as unstable as the desert's sand ; 
As changeful as the twice-seven-visag'd moon ; 
As hot as is the siroc from the south ; 
As light as rolling-thing before the whirlwind ; 
As riving -violent as is the bolt 
Hurl'd by the hand of thunder on the tree ; 
All these extremes he proves to our extremity, 
And brings his servants into jeopardy 
By his unkingly rashness and caprice. 
Witness his lately-seal'd and sent decree. 
That every Jew in Elam should be slain, 
Ev'n in one day, men, children, women, all 
Hurl'd into one vast, undistinguished death. 
That every Jewish house should be a shambles — 
And here, to-day, as a preposterous prelude 
To this blood- work, comes in our Mordecai, 
Appareird in the king's own robes, and riding 
On his own steed, confounding his decree. 
And stunning blinded men with contradictions 
Too hard for explanation ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 205 

Zeresh. I begin 

To fear these doiib tings, these backsliding fits. 
Of our imperial master — lest recoiling 
Back from tb' incensed mood wherein he, urg'd 
By thy incitements, seal'd the death-decree, 
He may, with more infuriate humour, wreak 
His vengeance on th' inciter, and thus balance 
Wrath against wrath. He, before whom to-day 
Thou hast begun to fall, is no mean head — 
He is the type and emblem of his nation — 
He is the persecuted, death -proscribed — 
Is the Jew Mordecai, for whom thou hast 
Laid up a chosen death ; — and now that his 
New-spangled star is risen up in the east, 
It bodes, my Lord, I fear, a sudden setting 
To thine i' th' west. 

Ham AN. Prithee, my dame — bode well, 

Leave to th' astrologers their twinkling stars. 
With all their cunnino- bodements thereon hanging. 
Up, my proud heart ! up ! cease not to aspire ! 
For why ? — 

Our house hath been disparaged, not degraded. 
Slighted, not sunk, o'erpast, but not overthrown ; — 
Are any of its mighty props and bulwarks 
Driven from beneath it by this mean affront ? 



206 ESTHER, 

Is not the glory of my riches still 

Secure ? Can any Persian cope with me 

For the storVl gold ? Are not my sons and daughters 

In number as a flock, and mounted high 

In exaltation — with their multitude 

Hooping my greatness round, and pinning it 

In firmness to th' existing state of things, 

As th' Arab's tent is pinn'd firm to the ground 

By its great multitude of props and stakes ! 

Hath yet my towering state and elevation 

Been levelled down to the plebeian pitch 

Of Persia's horde of nobles ? — Ev'n to-day, 

That brings its buffet, brings its comfort too, 

Sufficient to compensate ill with good. 

And make forget dishonour in the honour 

Of being first at table with the king. 

For, know, sweet dame ! 

To-day, Queen Esther hath invited me 

Unto the banquet for the king prepared, 

Me only of the princes — with the king 

I dine to day ! 

Zeresh. Seize the time, 

My Lord ! — improve the banquet's jollity — 
When souls, the wine-flush being up, are pliant; 
Obliterate and dash out from the king's brain 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 207 

To-day's more recent haps, and in their stead, 
Recall and re-instate him in the past. 
His wrath of yesterday : — urge home upon him 
His own promulg'd decree, his royal name 
Pledg'd to the provinces, in Median mode, 
Irrevocably — how the sword stands bare — 
How the tree waits — {Here Harbonah and Mehu- 
MAN, two of the King's chamberlains^ enter.) 

Harbonah. My Lord, Duke Haman ! we 

Come, at the King's commandment, to request 
In haste thy presence to the feast prepared 
By the Queen Esther, for the King and thee. 

Haman. I go, obedient to the royal call. 

\JExit with the Chamherlains, 

Zeresh. Heaven speed thee, O, my Lord ! — This 
feast, I pray, 
May it have happy ending to our house ! 



ACT Y. SCENE I. 

Banquet-room in Esther's Palace. 

Esther, Ahasuerus, Haman. 

Esther, I hope my Lord hath, with approving- 
eye, 



208 ESTHER, 

Look'd on mj banquet's preparations, 
Accepting them, in bis benignity, 
From bis most loving servant. 

Ahasuerus. As a sign 

Expressive of thy loving beart, Queen Estber, 
Towards tby lord, wbose mood, new-form'd by tbee, 
Now drops cold court-formalities, and glories 
In pleased obedience to bis Lady's sway. 
Tby reign, my sweet dame, bas induc'd a cbange 
In Persia's cramp'd, uiicbanging court ; Ere wbile 
Tbe King demanded Yasbti to come fortb, 
And sbew ber beauty in bis banquet-ball. 
But sbe refused to come at bis command ; 
To-day, Queen Estber begs tbe King to come 
To ber wine-banquet, and the King comes fortb 
Obedient, as invited, 

Esther. Persia's ladies, 

From tbis example, will but study more 
To captivate and win, by modest arts, 
Tb' affections of tbeir lords, wbicb is tbe true 
Triumpb of woman, and ber bonour'd crown 
Surpassing, in its glory, tbe gold-crown 
Set up witb pearls. 

Ahasuerus. My queen's encbanting grace, 

Uniting both, gives lustre to botb crowns ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 20'' 

And he, thy husband crown'd, now for a season 
Before thee puts his proud tiara off, 
Proffering himself thv subject, and beseeching 
That thou would'st, to his kingly po\Yer, afford 
The opportunity of blessing thee. 
Up to thy passing merits, with some boon 
Befitting Cyrus' grandchild. 

Esther. O, my Lord. 

Thy hand and heart are gen'rous, and invite 
The free expression from my tongue — but this 
Poor bosom trembles. 

Ahasuerus. Wherefore hesitates 

Thy tongue to hint thy heart's desires ? Disclose 
Thy thought, and say what thy petition is, 
Queen Esther ! And it shall be granted thee : — 
And what is thy request, and it shall be 
Performed, ev'n to the half of this my kingdom ? 

Esther {hur sting iiito tears). O, my Lord ! — 

Ahasuerus. Why weepest thou ? vrliat mean 

These tears and these emotions, on a theme 
Foreign from tears, associate to joy 
Rather than sorrow ? 

Esther. How can I, my Lord, 

Ev'n in thy royal presence, keep my heart. 
From bursting out in sorrow, when that heart, 



210 ESTHER, 

Nigh-broken, labours with the fear of death, 
For me, and for my people ? 

Ahasuerus. Fear of death ? 

For thee, Queen Esther, and thy people ! — AYliat 
Mean these strange words ? 

Esther (^Riswg fro'in her seat). My Lord, and 
royal husband ! 
A suppliant, here I stand before thee ! — But 
I do not ask from thee, or gold, or gems. 
Or pearls, or palaces, or provinces. 
To glorify my woman's yanity ; 
I do not ask the one-half of thy kingdom, 
To make myself co-partner in thy pomp. 
And ride in progress through th' admiring land, 
Partaker of the King's felicities ; — 
These, these I ask not ; — But, if in thy sight, 

King, I have found favour — if it please 
The King — Oh, let my life, at my petition. 
Be given me — let my people all be spar'd 
At my request ! 

Ahasuerus. Thy people's life — thy life — 

Queen Esther ! In what danger do they stand ? 
Who perils thee and thine ? 

Esther. O we are sold, 

1 and my people, we are sold, my Lord, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 211 

To be destroyed, to perish, to be slain 1 

Had we been sold for bondmen or bondwomen, 

My tongue would have been silent, nor would have 

Troubled thy royal ear with my complaint ; 

But we are sold, my Lord, for worse than bondage — 

I and my people, we are sold to slaughter, 

Sold to the sword, deliver'd to the death ! 

Ahasuerus. Who is the man, and where is he 
that durst 
Presume to do so in his heart ? 

Esther. The man, 

The adversary, and the enemy, 
Of me and of my people — he who hath 
Devis'd, and doom'd, and destined us to death, 
The plotter from whose spite-inspired breast 
Hath sprung a scheme so shameful-murderous, 
Blasting thy kingdom with depopulation, 
Sweeping my Father's people to the tomb, 
Effacing, from the earth's remembrance clean. 
The name and memories of me and mine, — 
The man, whose cruel heart hath hatched all this, 
Is — he that sits beside thee, my Lord, 
Ev'n this same cruel Haman ! 

Haman. {To himself,) Gracious Heaven ! 



212 ESTHEK, 

What woe, what vengeance waits, for tliis, the head 
Of miserable Haman ! 

Ahasuerus, rin icrath,) He that sits 
Beside me, murderer of my queen and people ! — 
Whence, and on what pretences is queen Esther, 
Together with her people, thus exposed 
To damage and to death ? 

Esther. Because, my Lord, 

I am a Jewess !— -And my kindred, Jews ! 
{The King and Haman here start ic'ith surprise.^ 
ls\.j people, Jewry's miserable exiles ! 
This is your Lady's and her people's crime — 
This, this, the accusation and the ground^ 
On which we are betray' d — 

Ahasuerus. By him, to whom 

My favour hath been shown — to whom my ring, 
The pledge of royal trust and royal favour 
Hath been committed ? 

Haman. (To himself.) Ruin, ruin, death, 
O'erhang thee now, most miserable Haman ! 

Esther. Yea, O my Lord ! by him who hath 
empoison'd 
Thy royal ear with his malignities, 
Abus'd his noble function, and his trust ! — 



A DIIA3IATIC POEM. 213 

Look on his countenance's self-accusation ! 
See the soul-tumults which a conscience causes ! 
See how the guilt, up from his hate-wrung heart, 
Where the blood-thirstiness had nurs'd itself. 
Comes mantling o'er his visage ! — 
Oh, no — no — 

Guilt cannot look on injur'd innocence — 
Those that his thought has sentenc'd to the death. 
How can his eye endure to look upon ? 
Look on me, Haman ! Think of Mordecai, 
Mine uncle ! All my people, young and old. 
Women, and little children, all mark'd off, 
All doom'd, in one black murder-making day ! 
Haman. (To himself,) O rather might the 
reddest thunderbolt, 

Laid up in heaven for those that merit death, 

And wish it, light on my devoted head. 
Than hear all this ! — 

Esther. Thou, Haman, art the man ! 

Thine is the slander and the accusation ! 

Thine is the writing and death-warrant drawn ! 

Thine is the sealing with the royal ring ! 

Thine are the orders given, the preparations, 

The blood-appointed day ! 

Haman . ( To himself, ) Strike I strike me, Heaven \ 



214 ESTHER, 

Ahasderus. (Rising in great indignation.) 
My trust belied ! — the king's great name abus'd 
To a most bloody and most damned purpose ! 
Ha ! Is it so — me cheated — me betray' d — 
By falsehood and deceitful practises, 
Me made partaker of most innocent blood ! 
The royal goodness wickedly beguil'd ! 
The royal signet traitorously us'd 
For savage slaughter, as if I the slayer ! 

(The King retires hy a side Chamber^door into 
the adjoining garden of the Queen's palace. J 

Ham AN. (To himself,) The king — he is gone 
out in wrath 1 
Death now awaits me — In my huge despair. 

To what shall I resort ? 

— Yield thou proud heart — stoop, haughty heart \ 

to this — 
This — which thine arrogance hath brought thee tO' — 

(^He throics himself in the lowest attitude of sup- 
plication on the couch of the Queen,) 
(To the Queen,) O Lady! look upon me in thy 

mercy, 
For in my guilt I cannot look on thee 1 
Caught in the deadly snare I laid for others, 
Here, a poor trembling supplicant I lie. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 215 

Here, prostrate at thy feet, asliam'd, confounded, 

Crushed and distracted with the magnitude 

Of my own crime, which now appears in all 

Its fearful and abominable grossness, 

When back reflected to mj sinning soul 

By thy most pure and perfect innocence ! 

O spare the self-condemn'd, whose torturVl breast 

Already sinks under a thousand stings 

Inflicted on himself at sight of thee ! 

Spare him to undergo a life of pangs 

Sufficient to atone, for his misdeeds, 

By years of long and terrible endurance, 

As suits his heinously-enormous crime. 

Oh, by thy own sweet sinlessness of spirit ! 

By thy lov'd kindred, whom my hate has outrag'd, 

Thy lineage, and thy birth, of which, until 

Thy mouth reveard it, I was ignorant, — 

Oh, by the Hebrew's God, with whom is mercy ! 

Spare, spare the life of him, whose only plea 

For pardon is thy queenly clemency ! — 

My life !— 

Tis for my life alone I supplicate — 

Let all my gold and riches perish from me, 

Those honours, stuck upon me, let them perish — 



216 ESTHER) 

Spare but my life — entreat the king to spare 
My life !— 

Esther. O tliou, who in thy wickedness 

Hast been ensnared — And art reserved- — But see ! 
(Here the King re-enters^ clad in red raiment. J 
My lord returns, apparelFd in his robe 
Of red, the sign of chafe and hot displeasure ! — 
Ahasuerus. What — hath th' arch-caitifF not 
achieved enough 
Of wickedness, unless he perpetrate 
And add another, more flagitious. 
To his already-monstrous heap of crimes ? — ■ 
— Before mine eyes, and in the royal house ? 

( The King swnm,ons his guards and Cham- 
herlains from the adjoinifig antechamber, J 
Abigtha ! Harbonah ! Mehuman ! Biztha ! 
Seize, seize this man, and bind — Cover his face — 

(They seize., hind him., and cover his face.) 
Divest his finger of th' imperial ring, 
And lead him to the pomegranate, whereon 
The traitor Teresh, with his comrade, perish'd. 

Hi^RBONAH. O king ! if to thy servant's tongue 
thou wilt 
Grant brief permission — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 217 

Ahasuerus. Speak, Harbonah ! 

But let the words which thoti dost proffer, be 
Concurrent with my swelling tide of wrath. 

Harbonah. My Lord, King! be't known to 
thee that this 
Condemned man, in plotting other's death, 
Has, by a fatal and forestalling haste, 
Completed the adjustment for his own. 
Within his house's court, he has set up 
A gallows, fifty cubits in its height, 
Fronting the window of his dining-chamber, 
Whereon he had devis'd and purposed 
To hang, before the eyes of all his house, 
The man he hated, for the good to thee 
Spoken and done, ev'n Mordecai, the Jew, 
Whom in his grudge, he had prejudged to death. 
This I have learn 'd from the Artificer 
Employed in fabrication of the wood. 

Ahasuerus. Fit machination for such baneful 
brain ! 
To his own gallows drag him — pattern him, 
According to the example and the mode 
He had designed for others — flesh his gibbet 
With his own burthenous sin-laden carcase, 
That men may say, that see him, Lo ! the man 



218 ESTHER, 

Of tnischief ! — His own mischief hath o'ertaen him ! 
Away with him to death ! — To-night's bright moon,— - 
Let her not set i* th' west before she fling 
His pendant shadow on his own house-wall. 

Ham AN. Woe, woe unto my pride and haughti- 
ness ! 
How hath that haughty spirit wrought my fall ! 
(He is dragged off hy the Chamberlains.) 
Ah ASUERUS. Now that our royal breath has blow u 
away 
This pestilence from off the world, 'tis time 
That modest merit should up-mount on high, 
And purify our realm from past pollution. 
My kingdom needs an arm, an ear, an eye 
To see, hear, act ; to whom th' imperial rule 
Can be confided safely; one who can 
By prudence disembarrass our affairs. 
Embroiled of late by this blood -meditater, 
And reinstall us in the public fame ; 
(To the Guards.) Call Mordecai, the Jew, the 

man who sav'd 
My life, when treachery encompassed it, 
And who, from this priz'd deed, which, till to-day. 
Lay back unrecompens'd, hath undergone. 
In meekness and humility, the scowl 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 21.9 

And persecution of his envious foe. 

That deed doth in itself present a claim 

To our imperial favour, being done 

In the pure spirit of fidelity, 

Unbrib'd, unbargain'd for, and unsolicited, * 

And having, for its aim and scope, my life : 

That claim, already strong, is now become 

Of double strength, combined (as now we know) 

With circumstance of consanguinity 

To our beloved queen. 

Esther. My lord, and husband ! 

In the concealment that the Jew, who sav'd 
Thy life, was uncle to thy spoused queen, 
(For his was that injunction to conceal), 
Lurk'd no disloyalty nor disrespect : 
'Twas but the virtuous diffidence of him 
Unwilling to ba noticed on the ground 
Of being so related ; he would not. 
That, to your royal ear, should be convey'd 
Matter to you so trivial. 

Ahasuerus. This reserve. 

By modesty suggested, doth the more 
Confirm to me his merit, and enforceth 
That claim, already strong enough, with such 
An amiable addition, that my choice 



220 ESTHER, 

Of him — tlie saviour of my life, the uncle 

Of my queen Esther, th' unobtrusive courtier — 

To be my arm and empire's minister, 

Remains the more appro vVI, confirmed the stronger 

By every special commendation. 

(The Chamberlain leads in Mordecai.) 

Harbonah, My lord, O King, I lead into your 
presence. 
Him whom your word commanded — Mordecai. 

Ahasuerus. Hail and glad welcome to the 
faithful Jew ! 

Mordecai. O King, I heard thy summons — and 
obey'd, — 
And here, in silence, wait thy high commands. 

Ahasuerus. Stand forward, Mordecai! — Thou 
son of Jair, 
Approach ! — too long thou hast been thrust behind. 
Shaded and screened by thine own modesty ! 
The faithful man, and diligent and true. 
Shall stand in presence of the king, and not 
Be mingled with the invidious, and the mean. 
That push his unassuming virtue back. 
That so their meanness may steal all the notice. 
Stand forward, noble Hebrew ! and receive 
As thy deserved due, too long delayed, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 221 

Th' abundance of thine honour ; — Now, mine empire 

Is needful of an arm, t' administrate, 

In lieu of tliat cut off, as too corrupt. 

And rotten — Here I put upon thy hand 

My ring, the seal of rule — and throw the robe 

Of purple on thy shoulder — that, when thou 

Walk*st forth into our many-streeted Shushan, 

My people, by these ensigns, may discern, 

And recognise thy dignity. 

MoRDECAi. For this grace 

Shown by my lord, the king, unto his servant, 
How can his servant speak his grateful sense 
More strong, than by imploring that his God, 
The Hebrews' God, may out of Zion bless, 

king ! thee and thy house and land, that so 
Prosperity, and peace, and righteousness, 
May flourish in thy walls and palaces, 

And all thy kingdom be one house of joy ! 

Ahasuerus. Thou hast prevented, Mordecai, my 
tongue 
In this thy benediction and thy speech : 

1 wish our Persia to be one house of joy. 

And Shushan it's chief chamber : — Wherefore, I 
Have caird, and do associate thee, to be 
My mate and help-fellow in this career 



222 ESTHER, 

Of bliss-makiDg, that all my subjects may 
In unity and happiness be wedded. 
As in one noble marriage-feast of joy. 

MoRDECAi. To be thine arm, my lord, thine ear, 
thine eye. 
As coadjutor in beneficence, 
To point, anticipating, out the spots 
Whereon the royal goodness should be shower'd. 
Shall be, O King, thy servant's happiness. 
His duty, and his glory. 

Ahasuerus. For this purpose. 

The Haman-hatch'd, accurs'd, destruction -plot. 
Impending o'er thy fellow-Hebrews, must. 
By counter-edict straight, be obviated. 
Let a decree be written, to reverse 
(For Persia's evil laws may be revers'd) 
The letter of the Agagite, devis'd 
For til' extirpation of the harmless Jew ; 
Let it be drawn out in our royal name, 
And, with the king's ring, seal'd, and sent abroad 
To all our deputies, and province-rulers, 
A countermand of mercy, casting all 
The previous death-warrant into extinction. 
And, in its stead, presenting to the Jew 
Light and delight, and gladness, joy, and honour ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 223 

And, to my Persian people, urging peace, 
And neighbourly regards, and sweet ajQfeetions, 
The solder and the cement of a state : 
Such also is the bond and chain that binds 
The monarch's life and welfare to the life 
And welfare of his subjects. 

MoRDECAi. These thy bests. 

My royal master, shall, with proper speed. 
Be expedited for the happiness 
And glory of thy people. 

Ahasuerus. For the house 

Of Haman, the Jew's enemy, — it is given 
To the queen Esther ; — let her exercise 
Her pleasure on the household of the man 
That would have slain her kindred. 

Esther. O my Lord ! 

Now that the master-mind, and arch-contriver, 
Hath been removed from his capacities 
Of mischief working, be it from us far, 
And from my kindred far, in his respect 
To wreak a vengeance, haply undeserv'd. 
On these, his seconders, or th' under guilty, 
Familiars in his house. Let me entreat 
My Lord's approval of my wish to spare 
His consort's life : His children and his house 

p 



224 ESTHER, 

I do resign to Mordecai, my kinsman, 
To overlook and govern. 

Ahasuerus. His discretion 

Shall manage these and other our affairs, 
And bring them to conclusion, safe and glorious 
For Persia's king and kingdom. To his hands 
We thus, in whole, entrust th' administration. 



SCENE II. 
Chamber of Hamans Palace. 

Zeresh (Alone — looking from the Casement.) 

How sweetly shines the lady-moon to-night, 
Amid her sparkling family of daughters, 
Who, round about her silver-seated chair. 
Dance gloriously, in handmaidlike attendance ! 
Her beamy face ! — how clearly does it throw 
Off from the solid substances of things 
Their shadowy semblances, that paint the ground 
With figures darksomely distinct ! Our roofs, 
The parapets, and j)innacles, and points, 
Lie, in their impress'd likenesses, asleep 



A DRAMATIC P0E3I. 225 

Upon the pavement- court ; — and the tall tree. 
'Scap'd from Zagrean mount, and here set up 
Against my husband's enemy, and waiting 
His time — a*s yet unoccupy'd — flings out. 
As if in pride, his high-fork'd branchy arms, 
Abroad in beauteous adumbration 
Upon the ground beneath it. — But^ — behold ! 

(Looking earnestly from the Casement.) 
A band of men, with cressets and with torches, 
Passing the portals of the court — 
They're enter'd — 

Ha ! — dragging on towards the gibbet's foot 
A man, whose face is Gpver'd, and whose frame 
Quakes with death's terrors — 
Haply, may it be 

My husband's enemy ? — In likelihood, 
He whom our gibbet yearns for, Mordecai ! 
Now they draw nearer — now they bind the cord 
About his fated neck ! — His garb — his gestures ! 

By heaven ! they shew like 

Can it be ? — Oh ! too like ! too sure ! — Oh heaven 1 
'Tis my own husband Haman ! 



1 2 a ESTHER, 



SCENE III. 

Jewish Synagogue. 

Elders, PIebrews, &c. 

Chief of the Synag. O never, friends, since 
Time began to note 
Man's fates and fortunes in his chronicle. 
Hath ever happ'd an overthrow so strange. 
So full of dreadful warning and instruction ! 
Such a recoil of mischief murderous 
On the remorseless pate of the misdoer ! 
A fall so sudden, so precipitous. 
Into the pit which his own hands had dug 
Deep, deep, t' entrap the feet of Innocence ! 
One day comprised it all — the morning saw 
The haughty-hearted, lofty-brow'd, go forth 
Rejoicing from his palace — his proud looks 
Bespeaking empire, — in his garment's folds 
Sporting about capriciously the fates 
Of those his hate had, without cause, death-doom'd ; 
The evening saw him dragg'd, dishonoured, back 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 227 

With cover'd face, a criminal, his eyes 

Denj'd their function, and his scornful heart 

Replenished rich with torturing contumely, 

A victim to his own iniquity; 

His demon-prompted mad machine of death, 

That, with uprais'd effrontery, did insult 

God and the heavens, devis'd for other's use. 

By Providence converted to his own ; 

And he, for whom he had intended it, 

Drawn up on high to occupy the place 

Of honour, which his villany had lost. 

O never saw the world such an example, 

So terribly exhibited, how Pride 

Precedes destruction, and a haughty spirit 

Towers highest when on very verge of fall ! 

His fall is our uprise ; — our nation now. 

Instead of sorrow, hath heart-filling joy, — 

Instead of sobs of mourning, happy hymns, — 

Instead of sackloth, garments of delight, — 

Instead of fasting, feasting : Jair's son. 

The representative of Hebrew glory. 

Hath come forth from the presence of the king, 

Appareird in his royal robes of blue. 

And white, and purple, with the jewelFd crown 



228 ESTHER, 

Of gold upon his head ; the city Shushan 

Heaves, as a hive, with gladness, all her streets 

Bestrewed with flow'rs, and hung from side to side 

With palm-branch, and with myrtle; th' Elamite, 

As in one common grand deliverance, 

Shares th' Israelitish transport ; bright-cheek'd boys. 

Their turbans all with lilies bunch'd about, 

Eun, shouting, to and for ; while black-ey'd maids, 

Their sisters, hand in hand, parade along, 

Their bosoms full of ripe-red roses stuck. 

Spangling the way with Beauty ; lute and cymbal 

Ring up to heaven ; while from the rebec's strings. 

The hidden spirit of their harmony 

Comes twangling forth, as for a merry-make, 

Beneath the player s fingers ; joy disports, 

Triumphant ; and the city Shushan uow 

Deserves her name, all-gay as is the lily ; — 

We too, my friends ! 

Let us express our joy, as doth become us, 

With gravity, and yet with fervency ; 

Here, in this house of pray'r, that heard our sighs. 

Let now be heard, ascending unto heaven. 

The voice of holy mirth and thanksgiving. 



a dramatic poem. 229 

Choir of Hebrew Men. 
I. 

The proud man, in his height secure, 
Stood up to persecute the poor ; 
His bow he bent, intent to slay ; 
Upon the string the arrow lay ; 
Th' Almighty rose, and smote him low. 
And into pieces brake his bow. 

Choir of Hebrew Women. 
2. 
But yesterday, the scorner frown'd 
In wrath ; to day he is not found ; 
He is returned to dust ; his thought 
Of haughtiness is come to nought ; 
As worms his grandeur is become ; 
His glory shrouded in the tomb ! 

Men. 
3. 
O Thou, that in the dust didst lie 1 
Now is thy horn advanced on high ; 
The kings of th' earth astonish'd see 
The workings of thy God in thee : 



230 ESTHER, 

For God hath now advanced thy name ; 
Thy glory floweth as a stream ! 

Women. 
4. 

Yet, not with man, the glory be ; 
Weak, poor, and abject, what are we ? 
Our Father's help, in ancient days — 
His be the glory, his the praise ; 
To him we lift the grateful voice : 
His be the laud that gives the joys ! 

Both Choirs. 
5. 

O God of mercy 1 that on high, 
Didst hear thy people's mournful cry, 
Accept these thanks — these tears that start 
Joy -pregnant, from th' o'er- teeming heart ! 
Our joys, O God, though great they be. 
Are magnify'd in thought of Thee ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 231 

SCENE lY. 

Angel of Retribution. 

'Tis done — the work which God commission'd me. 

His righteous minister, to oversee ; 

The man of lofty state hath been debased ; 

The man of lowly place hath been uprais'd ; 

Pride hath been scourg'd ; malignity of heart 

Hath been requited up to its desert ; 

Whilst Merit, Modesty, and Meekness, crown'd 

With just promotion, have their guerdon found ; 

And Peace^ Love, Joy, pervading every breast, 

Make the whole land, but chief its monarch, blest. 

Thus may the sons of men be taught how God 

For the proud -doer, hath a vengeance-rod; 

Guides those in judgment that his counsel seek. 

And, with salvation, beautifies the meek. 

The fall of Haman, in his engines caught, 

A fate so terribly with warning fraught. 

May teach the world, how, in that heart, where dwell 

The rankling passions, barns a quenchless hell ; 



232 ESTHER. 

How Pride is Misery ; and, join'd with Hate, 
Works but his own, when plotting other's fate ; 
And that, how high soe'er the station be, 
Man's truest Greatness is Humility ! 



THE END OF ESTHER, OR FALL OF HAMAjS. 



THE 



DESTRUCTION OF SODOM; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 



DRAMATIS PERSON.E. 



Angels. 

Abraham. 

Lot. 

* Hathan, Eldest Son-in-law of Lot. 
"^ AcHZAN^ Junior Son-in-law of Lot. 

Eltezer, Steward or Chief-Shepherd of Abraham. 
Kings of Sodom, Gomorrha, &c. 
Priests of Baal-Peor, Asheerah, &e. 
Chief-Shepherd or Steward of Lot. 
Shepherds, Heralds, &c. 

* Melah, Wife of Lot. 

* Aharah, Eldest Daughter of Lot, and Wife of Hathan. 
Two unmarried Daughters of Lot. 
Shepherdesses. 

The Scene is laid at the Gates, or in the Town of Sodom, — 
the heights of Hebron, and Carmel, on the west of the Dead 
Sea, and commanding, from many points, a full view of the 
Lake, and of the Pentapolis, or Five Cities of the Plain. 



* These four names are, as the Bible-reader will readily perceive, arbi- 
trarj-, and are Hebrew words, having significations apposite for the person- 
ages. IMelah, Salt,— H&than, Son-in-Iau',—AQhzd.n, Contumacious,— Ahii- 
rah, She that hesitates. 



THE 

DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. 



ACT I. SCENE I. 

Plain of Mainre or Hebron. 

Abraham, Eliezer. 

Abraham. Go, Eiiezer ! leave thy herds a while 
To feed, untended, here, on Hebron's heights, 
And, with thy staff to stay thee o'er the brook 
Of Bela, hie thee, with unhalting foot. 
Eastward, toward the Cities of the Plain ; 
There, near the gates of Sodom, or within 
The confines of her slime-concocted walls. 
Find out my kinsman ; and impart to him 
The revelation angel-given, whereby 
We know the doom just, just about to fall 



238 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. 

From God upon the wicked : — To thine ear 
I have reveal 'd the conversation held 
With One most holy ; to my brother's son 
Speak thou th' important message, wherein life 
Hangs periFd ; urge him in my name and words, 
To flee the sin-soiFd, fated territory, 
And leave the men of crime to undergo 
What God hath purpos'd. 

Eliezer. To my lord's command 

Obedient, I depart ; To-day's bright sun. 
That now is riding over Elam*s land, 
Shall, ere he droopeth toward Egypt's sea, 
Behold me entering in at Sodom's gates. 
To seek thy kinsman, and declare to him 
Th' angelical announcement. 

Abraham. Go thy way, 

Thou faithful servant! — May Heaven's peace and 

blessing 
Follow thee forth, and back again in joy 
Conduct thy steps to Hebron. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 239 

SCENE II. 

Front of Baal-jpeor's Temple in Sodom. 

King of Sodom. Priest, Herald, People. 

King {addressing the Priest). Now, Priest of 
Peor ! pass into thj shrine ; 
Consult thy god in secret ; and report 
To us the tenor of his mind and mood : 
Say, if he seals and sanctions with his smile 
The celebration of the Three-days' Feast, 
In honour of himself, and of the gods 
And goddesses of our Pentapolis, 
Propos'd by us his worshippers ; — this day 
To be his own, the prime of all the three ; 
The second to be bright AsheeraVs day. 
Both Sodom's queen and Bela's ; and the third. 
Fullest and last, the land's Panegyris, 
To be devoted to Gomorrha's god. 
Old Chemosh, and the goddess silver-shrin'd 
Of Admah and Zeboiim :— Enter then. 
Announce our purpose, and bring back the will 



240 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

And nod of Sodom's deity. 

[_Friest enters into the shrine of the temple. 
King (continuing^ and addressing the People.) 
Fair auguries encounter us, my friends ; 
To-day it shinetli glorious ; all the sky, 
Swept by the south wind, clear from fog or cloud, 
Seems doubly purify'd, and garnish'd round. 
From rim to rim, with beauty and with light ; 
Look now up to its mighty spanning arch. 
And comprehend the glory overhead ; — 
Then downward — see the beauteous lake, whose face. 
Most clear, as is the molten looking-glass. 
Throws upward, back again into the eye. 
Heaven's sun-gemm'd, blue, convexity, with all 
Our shores of olives, vines, and fig-trees, hung 
With fruits and flowers, seen glittering in the wave 
Earth, like a bride new-trimm'd, doth seem on high 
T' up-shoot her blossom-tipt, sky-waving arms 
T' enclasp the sun, her jolly -groom, that comes 
Forth of his chamber prancing. 
'Tis a day seemly-jocund to begin 
The circle of our Feast-jocundities, 
For Earth and Heav'n seem brush'd and burnished up : 
And man's desires, high-bounding in his breast. 
Crave to be richly quench'd and gratify'd. 



A BHAMATIC POEM. 241 

He Cometh forth — 

{The Priest re-appears froin the shrine of 
the temple — the King^ addressing him^ 
continues,^ 

King. What countenance shews the god 'i 

Pleas'd or displeased ? Must we to-day defer, 
Or speed, to do his orgies ? — Speak it out. 
Thou, waiter on Baal-peor ! 

Priest. All the signs, 

O King ! bespeak th' accordance of the god : 
High on his golden chair, he seem'd to nod, 
Down from his lofty and roof-soaring brows. 
His acquiescence in the triple feast 
Designed to honour him. 

King. Then 'tis decreed : — 

Now, herald, put the trumpet to thy mouth. 
And peal the tidings to the city forth, 
Till every chamber ring a response back : 
Bid them prepare the feast, march forth in pomp, 
With lutes, and viols, and, in long array, 
To Peor's gardens ; be the tables set 
In every street, with roses strew'd, and wine, 
And banquet-cheer ; but chiefly in the courts 
Of this our Peor's temple, 'neath the grove 
Of pines and plane-trees, whose sky- fanning leaves 



242 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Will gaily wave over the wassailers ; 

Bring fortli the table-furnisliiiigs of gold 

And silver, kept for holiday display ; 

The golden chalice, by Mizraim's art 

Carv'd into curious emblems, which the King 

Of Zoar sent a present to my sire — 

Be it brought forth, and crown'd ; — let rivers flow 

Of the rich juice, w^hose mother was the grape 

That grows beside Damascus ; be each heart 

Exalted, heav'd above humanity ; 

Till the man-gratifying, sensual, god, 

Himself be gratify'd, and smile to see 

Th' harmonious homage of his worshippers ! 

Herald (hlowing his trum,pet,) 
A Feast ! A Feast ! 

People of Sodom, 'tis your king that bids. 
Your god that backs the bidding ; 'tis his time 
Of celebration ; honour him, your god, 
With his due rites of city-ban quetings, 
And solace, of revelry and songs : — 
Prepare ye, then, the great Baal-peor's feast, 
And revel it in chamber and in street. 
Till every soul be satiated with cheer ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 243 

SCENE IIL 

The House of Lot > 
Lot, Mel ah. 

Mel AH. It is a day, to Sodom^s citizens 
Festive and gay ; forth from their gates they go, 
Unto the southern gardens, with long pomp 
Of town-procession, in their summer robes 
Of gallantry array'd, men, women, boys. 
And damsels :— Let me go, my lord, to see, 
If not to share, the common joy. 

Lot. Be thou. 

My consort, far from such assemblages ; 
Approach not ; mingle not ; nor let thine eye 
Err, even in gazing on the outside show 
Of such celebrities. 

Melah. 'Tis not my heart 

That longs to join them in their idol-love. 
And idol-offering ; 'tis mine eye alone. 
That craves to gratify its fond desire, 
Upon the glitter of the glorious train, 
Dress'd up with roses, and bespangled o'er 



244 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. 

With broider'd gold and silver blazonry, 
As to and fro they come and go. 

Lot. The eye, 

Ev'n when the heart is single, oftentimes 
Betrays and coys it off its watchfulness. 
By world's and ornament's seductive charms ; — 
Go not, my dame ! 'tis but a vanity, 
To be despis'd, not follow'd. 

Mel AH. Tis a toy, 

— The gaiety and gaudery of this world — 
To be amus'd with, — to be taken up, 
And cast aside at will ; Aye innocent, 
When that the heart is harmless, and all-proof 
Against the wiles of evil. 

Lot. Poison lurks 

Beneath the golden rind of the fair fruit. 
That woos the tongue to taste it. Peer's pomp, 
And gatherings, and idol-sacrifices. 
Are not for Terah's children. 

Melah. Too confined, 

And over-strict, is now my husband's mood ; — 
Not so in Haran's and my father's land ; 
Where, as the jewel-trick'd, gold-molten gods 
Of Ur were by their rob'd priests carried by, 
The sons and daughters of the city ran 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 245 

Up, unforbidden, to their roofs, to spy 

The spectacle, as down the dazzled streets 

Th' idolaters went gliding, as a stream : 

Thus in Chaldean Ur ; but in this land 

Of Canaan, where the Amorite outshine 

The Chaldee gods, mj lord doth stint his heart, 

Denying us just pastimes. 

Lot. In the land 

Of thy left father, thou didst, with my house, 
Abjure thy father's yanities of gods, 
The Baalim, and Groves, and Ashtaroth, 
Whom thou with him didst serve ; and in their stead, 
Thou didst adopt the God that made the heavens, 
Ev'n Abram's God, the Living and the True ; — 
Their feasts, their rites, their pomps, their lewdnesses, 
Thou didst forswear ; nor, in their secrecies 
Alone, but in their gay publicities : 
O go not, then, my dame, ev'n with thy look 
Into their secrets ; with their troops and trains 
Let not the honour of thy husband's house, 
Ev'n in the mere appearance, be conjoined. 
Here with thy daughters tarry thou, recluse. 
And guiltless ev'n of gazing on the pride 
Of sin that sweepeth by ;- — Let Sodom^s men 
And Sodom's women reel ! 



246 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Mel AH. The blameless soul^ 

Of its own virtue conscious, and secure 
In its stay'd purposes of rectitude, 
Stands firm, unswerving 'mong a multitude 
That onward rush to evil : — In this thing 
Minute, of my desire, be not my lord 
Displeas'd that I prefer to please my heart ; — • 
Yea — 'tis his honour that I follow not 
His wish expressed, for, were I conscious less 
Of innocence, I would be more inclined 
To yield compliance, and to tarry back, 
Weak, and self-doubting, from that city-show 
That so bewitcheth me. 

\_She departs from the Chmnher, 

Lot. She goes, and leaves 

Her husband more distemper d, than displeas'd : 
Woman ! I do not for thy virtue fear ; — 
It is thy proud unruliness of spirit. 
Thy haughtiness, so froward to advice, 
That startles me. — I pray my God it prove 
To her no source of evil ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 247 

SCENE lY. 

The Southern (or EllassarJ Gate of Sodom, 

Lot, Hathan, {cind to them Eliezer.) 

Lot. Here, in this shade, my son ! — here let us sit 
Cool, quiet, and sequestered from the din 
Of our mad city, whose heaven-scoffing shout. 
Sent up in honour of her revel-god. 
Hateful (though harmless here) comes in our ears, 
Like sound of the long surge that breaks in foam 
On Gaza's sandy shore : — Hark ! how the peals 
Ascend ! — The city-walls can scarce contain 
The clamour, and the restless revelry. 
That agitates her people. — We are well 
Apart, and sunder'd from the sinfulness 
Of their intemperate, lewd, idolatry : 
For this their god, who is no god, enjoins 
Not temperate enjoyment, but excess, 
E/iot, and huge indulgence, and misrule, 
That banish all reflection, and strike off 
The bars of sober Reason from the soul. 
Letting the baser passions headstrong loose 



248 THE DESTRUCTION' OF SODOM, 

To infamous, wild energy, whereby 
Man mars his bright divinity of image, 
And, like his lewd and brute-compounded idol, 
Imbrutes himself with vileness. 

Hathan. How unlike 

To the Great Name you worship ! 

Lot. True- — compard 

With this, the Amorite's idol- vanity, 
And the lewd service that deforms his courts, 
How pure, how full of glory, is the God 
Of Abram ! He who looks upon the pure 
Of yonder Heaven, and deemeth it unclean, 
Yea, even his angels chargeth as imperfect. 
Behold, how good he to his creatures is ! 
This earth, even as the garden of the Lord, 
How hath he water'd and enriched it ! 
Hills, valleys, bank of brook, and lip of lake, 
Hung thick, as in his Paradise, with fruit ! 
Nor hath he given it to the eye alone. 
An ornament to gaze at ; to the hand, 
And mouth, he hath commended it, and said, 
Pluck, eat, enjoy ! — Yet, when he bids enjoy. 
He urgeth temperate, not intemperate use, — 
The wise man's sweet refreshment and regale. 
Breeding tow'rd friends hilarity of heart. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 249 

And, tow'rd tli' Almighty giver, gratitude ; 
Not over-gorg'd indulgence and abuse. 
Strife -gendering, dashing out all thought of good, 
And deluging the soul with sin and death. 
Thus do Baal-peor's worshippers pervert 
Enjoyment ; and, what God hath, in his grace, 
Given to rejoice man's spirit, they have made 
The things that minister to lustfulness, 
And penitence, and death. — Far be from us 
To mingle in such orgies ! — But — behold ! 
A stranger on the southern road — His steps. 
Addressed to us, haste hitherward — Methinks, 
'Tis one from Abram's tents — 

(Eliezer appears.) 

Eliezer. Hail, O son 

Of Haran ! and a blessing from the God 
Of Abram, both on thee and on thy house ! 

Lot. Child of mine uncle's house, be thou too 
bless' d ! 
I greet thee with glad welcome ; — Is it well 
With Abram's house, and with his flocks ? 

Eliezer. Tis well, 

My lord, with Abram's house, and with his flocks ; 
High on the heights of Hebron, that overlook 
Your rich and sunny valley, are his tents 



250 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Pitcli'd prosp'rously ; and his large flocks and herds, 

'Tween Mamre and the Hittite's frontier-land, 

Feed quietly within their hilly range, 

Attended by their herdrnen : His domain 

Is wide, and safe, and lacketh danger ; — God 

Foreshows no evil to the shepherd-land 

Chos'n by thine uncle ; 'tis to this rich plain, 

Thy choice, that Abram's God doth signify 

Th' approaching fury of his wrath. 

Lot. What means 

This dark, ill-omen'd, prelude ? 

Eliezer. O my lord ! 

Be not offended at my sudden speech ; — 
I speak not from myself ;— It is thy friend, 
The son of Terah, and thy father's brother. 
That speaketh, when thou hearest these my lips 
Announce thy peril, and the dreadful doom 
Impending o'er this city. 

Lot. Say what doom 

Thou hintest — earthquake, thunder, fire, or flood. 
Or sword of foe ? 

Eliezer. My lord 

Hath AN. {Interrupting Mm.) Your Mamre's 
plain, 
Founded on rocks, and iron-bound with cliffs, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 251 

No doubt, is stable ; but, me thinks, our vale, 
Imbedded low between the mountain-rows, 
Is solder'd with bitumen ; Earth may quake 
All round, and shake her mountain-pillars down 
Ere it shall thrill through Siddim's vale ; — Our folk 
Shall sleep, as in their cradle, all secure. 
When, on your mountain-terrace prominent, 
Your herdmen and your herds, in terror, shall 
Rock to and fro in heaven- 

Eltezer. I come not charged. 

My lords, t' interpret by what instrument, 
Earthquake, or thunder, fire, or flood, or foe, 
Heav'n shall fulfil it's purpose ; — 'Tis not mine 
To search into the hidden ; — but I come 
To tell what is reveal'd — that God hath doomed 
This city to destruction ! 

Hathan. 'Tis a tale 

Brief, but most violent in its shock. 

Lot. Thy words 

Carry enough of dreadful to alarm 
Hearts less impressible than ours ; — Hath he, 
My kinsman, in a vision been forewarned ? 
Or have the Seraphim, within his tent. 
Whispered the secret to his ear ? 

Eliezer. Nor dream. 



252 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Nor night-voice, nor the whispering Seraphim, 

Have, to thy kinsman's darkling ear, convey' d 

An inkling of the future ; — but most clear. 

At noon-day, when the prone spring-flood of beams 

Falls on the world, a Holy One appear d 

Before him, brighter than the sun that shone 

In glory overhead ; a golden girdle 

Compressed and gathered in his garment's folds ; 

His eyes were as a flame of fire ; his feet 

Were as the burnish'd brass, or sardine-stone 

That forms the orient gate of heaven ; his right 

Hand held a golden vial, which was full 

Of the ripe wrath of Him that ever livetli ; — 

His lips he open'd ; — and, in earthly words, 

He parleyed with thy kinsman, as a friend, 

Of Justice, Mercy, Truth, and Righteousness. 

He said, — The cry of Sodom was gone up^ 

Because their sin was very grievous ; then 

He turned his face toward the Siddim-vale, 

And with a shout, — Woe to th* inhahiters ! 

He pour'd his vial out upon the land. 

And sea. 

Lot. These words, that action, are a sign 
Too pregaantly significant ; and, join'd 
With this Baal-peor's worship, the rude roar 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 253 

Of Eevelry and Rage that tlie near city 

Pours out upon our ears, more than suffice 

To warn us of the perils of the folk 

Immers'd in lewdness, luxury, and sin, 

With whom we do cohabit : — But, O, youth, 

Son of mine uncle's house, after thy toil 

Of journey, thou requirest rest, and food, 

And water to thy feet ; — Pass in, with me. 

Into my safe and peaceful house, that stands 

Retir'd from the main city; there we shall, 

Around our household-table, crown'd with cates 

Enlivening, yet temperate, talk at large 

Of these most strange forewarnings. — Go with us. 

My son-in-law ! for thou art of ourselves. 

Bound in one precious famly-bond of life. 



ACT II. SCENE I. 

Front of Asheerah's (Astarte's) Temple in Sodom. 

King of Sodom, Priest of Asheerah, Herald, 
People. 

King. Another day dawns bright ; the sun looks 
forth 



254 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

From his bow'r-casement in the orient, 

As gallant, and provocative of joy, 

As he did yesterday : — Priest of Asheerah, 

(The goddess-queen of Bela and of Sodom, 

Whose head doth mimic the grass -chewing ox). 

Enter thy shrine — consult — and see — and say 

If to-day's time is timely for her feast — 

(The Priest enters the temple^ the Khi(j 
continues,) 
Each god and goddess in our ruhric-roll 
Must have his day, and duly be ador'd 
With rites and orgies seemly unto each ; 
Else would the hearts of these our golden gods 
With jealousy fret visibly, and subvert 
Our secular state and kingdom with their feuds, 
Begot of human preference. {The Priest re-ap- 
pears — the King addresses him.) 
Consulter of Asheerah ! say how looks 
The goddess ! — Thwartly, or auspiciously ? — - 

Priest. My lord, O king, our goddess on her face. 
Bears grace and kind acceptance ; she invites 
Your subjects to her feast. 

King. Then let the day 

Advance with joy — Sound, herald, with your trump — 
Announce the celebration to the city ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 255 

• Herald {sounding his trumpet,) Joy! Joy! — 
Asheerah, to her festival. 
To-day bids male and female congregate, 
Within the grove of myrtle-trees, that girds 
Her temple round with salutary shade ; 
For there hath Pleasure built his golden bower : 
To this, her temple's master-luxury, 
Let all the streets, and openings of the gates, 
Houses and chambers, add their delicates, 
Of viands, wine, and rose, and song, till all 
The city swim from gate to gate in joy. 
Prepare ye, then, the great Asheerah's feast, 
And revel it in chamber, grove, and street, 
Till every soul be satiated with cheer ! 



SCENE II. 

The Southern {or Ellassar) Gate of Sodom. 

Lot, Hathan. (To them the Two Angels.) 

Lot. Here in the o'er-shaded seat, beside the 
gate. 
Sit we again, son-in-law ! remote 

R 



256 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

From noise ; and here enjoy the setting sun, 
Half-hid behind the rocks of Engedi, 
Who, as he westerns down to Zoar's sea, 
Look ! how he makes the shadow of the hills 
Climb slowly up the vine-clad eastern heights, 
That shut in our rich valley : — 'Tis an hour 
For precious musings fit — for sending all 
The soul abroad in meditative gaze. 
In admiration of the wond'rous works 
Of God, which are above all measure great. 
Sought out, by those that love him, and enjoy'd , — 
Here now, by us, the more enjoy'd, since 'scap'd 
Th' infection, and the reckless revelry. 
That maddens Sodom's people, in whose souls. 
Wine, paired with Lust, now mounts, and dispos- 
sesses 
All thought, all modesty, all self-regard : 
What wonder, then, our ears have been alarm'd 
With tokens of th* impending wrath of God ^ 
Upon these wicked? — when we look at them. 
Thus wallowing in their sty of wickedness, 
Well augur we chastisement, as befits 
Man's huge corruption ; — but, when up from them 
We look, upon the beauty of this land. 
This world, and its blue roof, the orbed heaven, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 257 

With yonder sun-set glories, our stunn'd hearts 

Take confidence, as in the gracious God, 

Who hath established Earth, and given command 

That she should sit on her foundation firm, 

At rest in all her beauty. 

- Hath AN, There, O Father ! 

There is our trust, our propping-up against 

These rumours of near ruin and alarms : 

Nor heayen, nor earth, nor water, shew a sign 

Of breach, wreck, or disorder ; All is still ; 

Save man's loud passions, which, let forth too large, 

Come back, like unchain'd lions, on himself, 

And prey upon his vitals: — God's great world 

Hangs on its nothing safe ; 'tis man's small world, 

Convuls'd into disorder by himself. 

That doth present confusion. 

Lot. Yet the words 

Of Abram*s tongue are not to be mispriz'd, 
For ^bram's heart is perfect with his God. 

Hathan. Be wroth not, son of Haran, if I 
speak — 
Hath not this exile from Chaldean Ur, 
The son of Terah, to whom Canaan's land, 
Between the Hittite and the Maon -cliff's, 
Is portion'd, passions human like our own ? 



258 THE DESTRUCTION OF S0D03I, 

Hath he not seen thee choose this goodly soiJ, 
Fed green by brook and never-lacking lake, 
As thine own rano^e ? — thus leavino: to himself 
His mountain-fields, sky-kissing, that from clouds 
At spring-time or in winter scudding by, 
Steal their small stint of rains, that oft-times balk 
His herds of their expected pasture-meat ? 
May not this disappointed Abram grudge 
To thee posfeession of the Jordan-plain ? 
Heav'n-favour'd though he be, may envy not 
Have graz'd his heart, engendering the wish 
That thou shouldst leave our ever-water'd land, 
Too good — save for himself ? 

Lot. Be hush'd that voice, 

O husband of my daughter ! that detracts 
From Terali's son, mine honour'd uncle. 
But— 

Lo ! lift thine eyes — behold these strangers twain, 
Both travelling in the greatness of their strength, 
Adown th' Ellassar road — this way they come ; — 
Their garb, their mien, their majesty of march, 
Bespeak of the celestial ! — sure, not thus 
The kings of Shinar or of Elam walk — 
So noble in their gesture — in their step 
So more than kingly — in their stately brows 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 25.9 

Tiara*d so with glorj ! — Let us rise, 
O son 1 to greet the strangers — 

{^LoT and Ms son-in-lavj^ leamng their place^ 
salute the approaching Angels. J 

Lot. C (continuing) Hail, glorious children of 
the road ! 

1st. Angel. All hail, 

And peace and joy upon you from the Lord, 
Ye, children of the city ! 

Lot. We receive 

Your salutations, joyous ; yet, before 
The majesty of your divine aspect. 
Your servants, over-dazzled and abash'd. 
Bow down, as if unworthy. (They hoio theinselces 

to the grjoimd.) 

2d. Angel. Fear thou not, 

Son of the eastern people ! Be not sham'd 
To commune with the stranger ! — we are come 
From Sinai-mount, on whose twin- tops this morn 
We sat, to view the cities of the earth. 
Babel, and Rehoboth, and Niniveh, 
And Eezen, and Mizraim's crowded marts, 
Zoar, and Memphis, and Nile-nourish'd No, 
And Salem, built by Jebus on his hill, 
And slime-enriched Sodom in her vale; 



260 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

We saw them, and their people, passing through 
Their gates and streets, on business, or on sport. 
Thousands of thousands, with their thousand aims, 
Hurrying, like troubled waters, to and fro ; 
We listened with our ears, to hear their hum ; 
Whether th' Almighty, and his fearful name, 
And worship, were regarded in the midst 
Of the great concourse, and tumultuous heave 
Of their engrossed, gain-grasping, multitudes : — 
We listened ; — ^and from some we heard a loud. 
From others, a suppressed and feeble cry ; — 
But, from this city, on the slime-rich plain, 
The cry ascended loudest ; and we come 
To prove the people both with eye and ear, 
If they be such as is their bruit. 

Lot. O ye 

Princes of God, (for by what lower name 
May I address the glory that flames forth 
All round you ?) — in mine own, and household's 

name, 
I bid you welcome to our city-gate. 
And to my house, as sojourners and guests ; 
For — in this boisterous and unholy city. 
Whose bruit, though evil, by its evil acts, 
Surpassing rumour, is outdone, — I ween, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 261 

August and lordly though your persons be, 
Yet, yet, as strangers, from aggressive hands 
Ye shall require protection, 

1st Angel. Babel's sons 

That worship Baal, and the Ethiops 
That bow them. down to No's goat-headed stones, 
Respect the stranger, as he passeth through 
Their cities. 

Lot. Nor in Babel, nor in No, 

Stand Peer's or Asheerah's fanes ; nor are 
Their holidays by kings and people kept 
With hideous celebration : — wherefore, now, 
My lords, if so ye please, turn in, I pray. 
Into your servant's house, and tarry there 
All night, and wash your feet, and ye shall rise 
Up early, and go on your ways. 

1st Angel. Nay, nay — 

All night we will continue in the street. 
Behold ! the sky is radiant ; and the moon 
Already, o'er yon eastern hill, hangs out 
Her lamp, to light us all the long night through, 
As, underneath some branchy olive's shade, 
Hous'd coolly, we shall slumber till the dawn. 

Lot. My lords, on Sephar's mountain, and the 
wastes 



262 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Of Dedan, ye may safely bed beneath 
Heaven's canopy ; the lions of the wild 
Will there respect you ; but, in Sodom's streets, 
Prowl other ravagers ; and marble walls, 
And doors, brass-barr'd, are needful to secure 
Sweet slumber to your eyelids. 

2d Angel. Forasmuch 

As thou, best knowing, dost suspect thy folk. 
Haply of rude, inhospitable, deed, 
Tow'rd us wayfarers, we resign ourselves 
To your protection :-— Lead us then along 
Son of the eastern people ! 

Lot. Then, my lords ! 

Proceed with me ;— my dwelling stands aloof. 
Towards the western city- wall, embower'd 
Amid green tufts of foliage ; yet we, needs. 
To reach it, must pass thorough the main street, 
Now thickly set with tables, and afloat 
With wine and luxury. 

Angels. We attend thy side ; — 

Now— onward let us walk. 

\They pass on^ and enter the gate. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 263 

SCENE III. 

Cell in the Temple of Peor, 

King, Priest (who enters on the sudden^ and as 
agitated with tcine and passion^ 

King. So ! So ! — an incident hath happ'd to mar 

The glad outgoings of the afternoon :— - 

Spok'st thou of the Chaldean ? 

Priest. Him, my lord — 

King. The wandering man, who, from Euphrates' 
shore. 

Of late arrived ? — to whom we have assigned 

Our citj-common, as a fattening walk, 

For his shrunk sheep and goats ? 

Priest. Even of him — 

King. The man, whom we have permitted to 
steal in 

To this our city, with his household stuff, 

And here to house him in a lonely nook, — 

A slanderer, and a traitor to the folk, 

And gods, that cherish him ? 

Priest. 'Tis that fellow ! 

To him, and to his lying lips, we trace 



264 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

These city-troubling rumours, these dark threats, 

Of death, and doom impendent ! — Yesterday, 

Ev'n at the gate, the man was overheard 

In damning converse ; and, this day, he stood 

Aloof, in scorn from these our jollities ; 

Nor mingled with your people ; but, colleagu'd 

With aliens, haters of our gods, pass'd up 

Through the long street that held the worshippers, 

Scorning to touch our garments — he, and his 

Conspiring strangers, in their foreign robes, 

Tossing their haughty heads in contumely, 

And uttering scandalous words, condemnatory 

Of these our celebrations : — I am come 

Straight from the place, where I, with rage, beheld, 

The doings of these scoffers. 

King. Search^them out — 

Dishouse — extirpate them — send forth thy bands 
Of chambering priests and temple-underlings, 
And, ere the midnight pass, assail and storm 
Their mansion, as it merits : — Now, of this 
No more ; — let us betake ourselves again 
To solace, which this jarring circumstance 
Too long hath interrupted. — To the tables ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. '^^^^ 



SCENE lY. 



An eminence near Mamre^ on the east of the Dead 
Sea, 

EliezeRj Shepherds, Shepherdesses. 

Eliezer. a little onward, gentle friends ! 

1st Shepherd. The spot 

Attained is pleasant, and commands survey 
Of til' eastern plain stretch' d under. 

Eliezer. But a few 

Steps farther to the sycamore — 

2d Sheph. That stands 

Fronting the moon, and, in her leaves and flowers, 
Seems drinking in the moonshine ? 

Eliezer. There, O friends — 

There halt, and, underneath the wild- fig's shade. 
Let us, to sound of timbrel and of harp, 
After our day-work done, delight our hearts, 
In the sweet evening's cool, with even-song. 
And dance, and pastime, fitting to the sons 
And daughters of our master's house : — Begin, 



266 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Ye (laughters, that, with tab ret each adorn 'd, 
Go in the dances forth, of them that join 
The merry-make ; — arrange the artful ring. 
And foot the mazy round, that ye were wont 
Upon ill Assyrian meadows, to the chime 
Of Jubal's new-invented harp. 

CThe Shepherdesses range themselves into ttco 
Choirs^ and dance to the sound of their tim- 
brels.) 
Eliezer. Now change 

The guise, and, with your roundelay of praise, 
Alternating in mutual choirs, exalt 
Our hearts to thoughtful joy. 

(The Shepherdesses sing,) 



First Choir of Shepherdesses. 
1. 
Awake, my timbrel I make thy sound 
Spread wide through Abram's tents around ; 
Awake, my heart ! be tun'd, my voice ! 
Spread wide through Abram's tents thy joys ; 
Such joys as spring from God above ; 
His adoration, and his love. 



a dramatic poem. 267 

Second Choir. 
2. 
Once under Charran's pine-tree shades, 
I dane'd with Aram's black>ej'd maids ; 
And sung, to Jubal's trembling strings, 
Such songs as Chaldee shepherd sings ; 
But now, I, with my tuneful band, 
Sing a new song, in Canaan's land. 

First Choir. 
3. 
The Chaldee shepherd, when on high 
He sees the sun traverse the skj, 
Or moon, along the bridge of night, 
Walk in her silver sandals bright — 
Their beauty doth his heart betray ; 
'Tis secretly entic'd avs^ay. 

Second Choir. 
4. 
But I behold, upon their frame. 
His spirit, that hath garnished them ; 
See in them, ravishing displayed. 
The hand of Abram's God, that made ; 



268 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

For sun, and moon, and stars, though bright, 
Are but the shadow of his light. 

First Choir. 
5. 

His chariot he doth make the clouds. 
Wherein he bindeth up the floods ; 
The lightnings, that precede his path, 
He makes his ministers of wrath ; 
The winds, that vibrate tree and tower. 
He makes the angels of his power. 

Second Choir. 
6. 
He chideth, and, at his rebuke. 
The pillars of the earth are shook ; 
He smileth, and the skies, all-bright, 
From pole to pole are sown with light ; 
The God of Abram is my fear ; 
Who would not love him and revere ? 

Eliezer. The peace of heav'n dwell richly in 
your heart, 
Sweet maids, in recompense of this your song ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 209 

And now, ye shepherd-swains, fulifil your part, 

And follow, with a sequel suitable 

Of dance, and song, the damsels' roundelay. 

(The Shepherds^ after performing a rustic 
dance^ sing in divisions alternately.) 



First Choir of Shepherds. 
1. 
Where Chabor's waters, soft and slow, 
Near Shinar's mount, begin to flow, 
The son of Terah, as he fed 
His flocks upon the river-mead, 
Heard, from a golden cloud, on high, 
A voice resounding through the sky. 

Second Choir. 
2. 
Arise, the God of glory spoke, 
Nor longer feed near Shinar's rock ; 
Forsake thy father's house, and go 
Unto a land that I will show ; 
There I will bless thee, and thy name 
Make great, and glorify with fame. 



270 the destrijctiox of sodom, 

First Choir. 
3. 
The son of Terah, at command 
Of God, went out from Charran's land ; 
He went with all his shepherd- store ; 
He clomb Euphrates' sedgy shore ; 
He pass'd with all his long array. 
Through Tadmor's waste and weary way. 

Second Choir. 
4. 
The son of Haran, by his side, 
Attendant, did on camel ride ; 
Their journeyings, their joys, and cares. 
Were common ; one same God was theirs ; 
That God, who gave them the command, — 
He brought them to this promised land. 

First Choir. 
5. 
Their flocks, and herds, and tents spread round, 
And covered half of Canaan's ground ; 
One narrow land could scarce contain 
Th' expanded substance of the twain ; 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 271 

They part ; and Terah's son his tent 
Hath pitch'd on Carmers green ascent. 

Second Choir. 
6. 
His kinsman, from Mount Carmel's top, 
Look'd east to Bela's sunny slope ; 
He saw the Plain ; her brooks, her bow'rs, 
Her greensward flats, that ask no show'rs ! 
He chose them for his portion fair ; — 
He sojourns, and embowers him there. 

Eliezer. Tis well, O friends ! — Now, for our 
eventide feast. 
Of shepherd- viands, fruit and bread, and wine, 
Beneath the sycamore ; — The turf will serve 
For our soft seat ; the heav'n-hung moon for lamp ; 
The thick tree-shade for canopy ; — Our talk 
Will be of God's kind leadings ; — of the son 
Of Terali, here within his mountain -home 
Surrounded by the friendly Canaanite ; 
And Haran's son, that bides by Sodom's wall, 
Near neighbour to th' ungodly Amorite. 
Sit — sit we down in the cool shade. — 



^72 THE DESTRUCTION OF SCDOM, 

ACT III. SCENE I. 

Apartment in Lofs house. 

Angels, Lot. C^o them the Wife and Daughters 
o/LoT.) 

[The evening-meal, called a feast in Genesis xix. 3, may be 
supposed to be ended, at which the wife and daughters of 
Lot, according to ancient Hebrew custom, officiated as 
waiting-women. These have now retired, and leave the 
others at table, enjoying moderate wine and conversation.] 

Lot. Illustrious strangers! now that cheerful 
food, 
So needful to recruit the body's waste, 
Hath stay'd our hearts, and to the mind allowed, 
(That lower function now discharged) free time 
And scope for social converse, bear with me, 
When I congratulate my lowly roof, 
My family, myself, on this most blest 
Enjoyment of the company of those. 
Whose looks bewray not Earth, who, in the skirts 
Ev'n of their garments, carry a divine 
Fragrance that whispereth Heaven. 

1st Angel. Not to us. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 273 

Sons of the same sole Parent, and, no less 

Than man, subordinate to Heav'n, extend 

Bland words, most like to worship ; — we are here, 

Thy fellow-servants, and walk to and fro 

O'er earth, on errands from the mighty One, 

The master of his starry-chamber'd house. 

The universe. 

Lot. I see and recognise 

Your dignity of office, as the bright 
Ambassadors of God, that here below. 
Seen or unseen, range vigilant, and have 
Charge of one chamber of th' Almighty's palace, 
This earth, our dwelling-house, — to aid the good, 
T' upbuild the cities of the righteous, 
To wipe the widow's and the orphan's tears, 
To lift up him that is oppress' d, and fill 
The hearts of wronged innocents with joy ; 
But, as chastisers also, arm'd with power 
To scourge the wicked, and shake down to dust 
The tow'rs of the ungodly. — Ye have seen 
Our Sodom ? 

1st Angel. We have walk'd through Babylon, 
The mighty Hunter's city, bulwark'd strong 
With brass and brick ; her walls we have gone round. 
And counted all her tow'rs and palaces ; — 



274 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Through Ashur's city we have journeyed too, 

From morn to eve, and seen her valiant men 

In scarlet, and her chariots in her streets 

Jostling, and all her gallants raging round : — 

These we have passed, and noted down their crimes, 

Corruptions, and impure idolatries. 

In our great book, the Register of sins ; 

But this, your smaller people, in their gross 

And multiply'd pollutions, doth o'erpass 

Babel's and Huzzab's swarms. 

Lot. Sodom's fields 

Are rich, as is the garden of the Lord, 
And over- feed her slothful citizens 
To luxury and lewdness. 

2d Angel. Egypt's land 

Is rich, and Ashur's land, and Nimrod's land, 
Are rich — what pity that the gifts of God, 
Indulg'd to mortals, as the means whereby 
To virtue they may mount, and happiness. 
And thus enjoy th' Almighty in his love 
And grace, should be by man himself debas'd 
To be the instruments of vice, and sin, 
And misery ? Behold the great All- wise 
Hath planted pleasure in the frame of man, 
And made it the foundation of his own 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 27 5 

Particular preservation, and the life, 

From sire to son, transmitted endless down : 

Thus, in his boundless wisdom ; and, as man 

Doth husband well or ill these appetites, 

So is his weal or woe ; too oft his woe, 

From his unwise conducting. Nor hath God, 

According to these tastes of man, refus'd 

Means, fair and blameless, them to gratify. 

For, to preserve his mortal life, how hath 

He stock'd this earth with riches ? how with flocks, 

Hath clothed the pastures ? how hath covered o'er 

With corn the valleys ? how the mountain's sides 

Hath clad with climbing vines ? Land, sea, and sky, 

Swarm with vast wealth, cattle, and fish, and fowl. 

That court the human taste t' exhaust their rich 

O'er-swelling treasures ; and, in moderate use. 

All these are bless'd. Thus, thus hath God, as with 

A silver cord, secured man's life, and linked 

His being to his pleasures. Nor is less 

Secur d that other general life, that runs 

Down the long line of being, and preserv^es 

Continuous man for ages : — For the taste, 

Conducive to this mighty end, in which 

The population and the power of worlds 

Are all involv'd, hath he not minister'd 



776 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Beauty, the sovereign and resistless charm, 
And gathered every grace and ornament, 
Scatter d apart through his gay universe, 
And, as in one bright type, concentrated 
Them all in woman's form ? What beauty glows 
In sun, moon, stars above, what shines below 
In sea, earth, mountain, fountain, hill or dale, 
Hath lie not stamped it on the face of her 
Whom he has form'd his help-meet, making thus 
Man's noblest admiration and his love 
Of beautiful, the golden hoop that binds 
Connubial fellowship, and household-bliss. 
With perpetuity of race ? Most pure 
These joys ; most chaste, and sacred ; not reducing 
Th' aspirin o^ and ethereal spirit back 
To sensual gro veilings, but exalting it, 
And training it, as if by steps, to mount 
The scale of godly love, whose base is set 
On earth, whose top ascends out near the rills 
Of life, beside the throne of God ; — by this 
The good man climbs, until he set his foot 
Upon th* empyreal pavement, there t' admire. 
With us Heaven's hosts, his fellow- worshippers, 
Godhead itself the source of Love and Beauty. 

Lot. O that this wisdom priz'd and practised were ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 277 

2d Angel. These, then, are here below man's 
truest goods, 
And graces the most godlike, love of God, 
Of wisdom, and of beauty ; and, with these, 
The handmaid of all virtue, temperance, 
T' adjust enjoyment to the proper pitch. 
That wisdom warrants. These do comprehend 
His fulness of felicity on earth : 
Yet, yet, alas ! how seldom have we seen, 
In our angelic progresses throughout 
The cities of this world, that man perceives 
His happiness, or practises aright 
Its methods, taught by Wisdom ; rather, led 
By Folly, he misuses and perverts. 
Towards his own unhappiness and death, 
What God hath lent, in his beneficence, 
To benefit and bless him ; — witness this 
Your city, Sodom ! {Here are heard shouts from 
without^ as of bacchanalian revellers,) 

1st Angel. Ha ! the shouts of men. 

Outraging night, and her sweet light the moon, 
With their obtrusive clamour ! 

2d Angel. In the street 

Some mischief is a-gathering. 

Lot. Their bold shouts, 



278 THE DESTRUCTION OP SODOM, 

Methinks, are heard too near — 

{He rises to look forth from the casement ; — 
his wife and daughters rush into the apart- 
ment with symptoms of terror and alarm.) 
Melah. O, my lords ! 

The house all round us is attacked ! 

Lot. The men 

Of Peor? 

Melah, Peer's men are round about us. 

With torches, and with firebrands in their hands. 
Directed tow'rds our casements ; — and they cry, 
Destruction^ Death to the false foreigner^ 
That hath come in to judge us ! 

Angels {to Lot), Sufier us 

To chide away these clamourers. 

Lot. Not so — 

Mine honour'd guests ! The master of the house 
Shall, as becomes, out-face them. 

{He goes from the apartment into the exte- 
rior passage leading towards the door — 
the tumult increases^ and there are heard 
from without the voices of) 
Rioters. Fire ! Fire ! 

Out with the sojourner ! 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 279 

Melah and DArGHTERs. Save us, my lords ! 
Oh, save us ! 

1st Angel. Fear ye nought, O gentle dames ! 
God will preserva the righteous. 

(Again are heard the tumultuous voices 
of the) 
Rioters. Out with the men ! 

Drag, drag them out ! Fire ! Fire ! — Burn down the 

gate — 
Tear up the roof ! Down with the sojourner ! 
Out with him and his men ! 

f Lot overpowered li/ Ms alarm^ comes hack 
into the apartment.) 
Lot. They force the door, — 

They overleap the threshold — O my daughters I 

1st Angel. Hold, hold — 

Nor let Disquiet seize you — 'Tis now time — 
High time for God's omnipotence to work ! 
Be thou at ease, dame, with these thy daughters ; 
Fear not, for we are with you ; — thou, our host, 
Stand back, secure ; and leave thou unto us 
Protection of thy family, the good 
Against this combination of the bad ; — 
One short, short word — one look of levelled wrath. 
Will scatter and confound this foul night-crew 



280 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Intent on wickedness ! 

(The angels go into the passage leading towards 
the door^ leaving Lot and daughters^ agitated 
loith terror in the apartment, J 
1st Angel. C heard from the passage,) Retire, 
ye wicked ! 
Be blasted with confusion from our God ! 

2d Angel. Hence, ungodly ! 

Hence ! — Be with blindness smitten by our God I 



SCENE II. 

Palace of the King of Sodom, 
King, Priest of Peor. 

King. Again, alarm ? Nor can the still midnight, 
That now draws close her curtain round the world. 
Screen us from heart- vexations ? 

Priest. All the city 

My lord, O king, is raging ! 

King. Let it rage ; — 

Rage is its element when Peor lords ; 
What strange in this? 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 281 

Priest. Peor hath lost his power ; 

And his acknowledged servants, that went hence, 
Reeling on riotous adventure forth, 
Now wander like to blind men in the streets, 
A-groping for the wall, abandoned, foil'd. 
Cowering with vile dejection and despair. 
All-impotent. 

King. Hath riot and large wine 

So overlay 'd them, that the god himself 
Of riot hath forsworn them, and struck dead 
Their bodies and their souls with impotence ? — 
— The morning will re-man them ! 

Priest. my lord ! 

Nor wine, nor he, our worshipped god, have struck 
This stroke upon our city ; but, in spite 
And in defiance of him and his power. 
Some adverse demon hath inflicted it. 
Our band of men, — that from the Idol-house 
Went arm*d with torches, brands, and emblems, high 
Toss'd up in pride towards tV out-dazzled moon, 
To punish in his house the sojourner, 
That did blaspheme our idols, with his pair 
Of golden-girdled, long-rob' d, aliens proud. 
His guests — no sooner came up to the gate. 
Demanding retribution, challenging 



282 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Forth from their cells these mockers of our gods, 

When, from th' up-flying door came fearless forth 

That gold-girt pair, and on the threshold stood, 

With faces splendid as the sun, their feet 

As pillars of clear fire ; — they stood, and cry'd. 

As when a lion roareth, Hence^ ungodly ! 

Hence ! — Be with blindness smitten hy our God I 

As in a moment lightning from on high 

Blasts forest-trees from top to root, so came 

That charm, that curse, upon our armed men ; 

And down their arms and emblems fell ; their eyes 

In darkness rolFd about ; up to the sky 

Their stounded heads they rais'd, and try'd to find 

The bright moon in her place, but found her not : 

Like men in bottom of black pit profound 

They walked, each against each with jostling shock. 

Jarring in their confusion, nor could reach 

The house or door whence came the blinding blast 

That withered them ; but round the walls they went 

At fault, in dizzy circles endlessly, 

Or through the streets, in darkling mazes, they 

Roam VI errabund, of their own homes in search, 

Or shrieking, in their sightlessness, for guides. 

Homeward to guide their stumbling steps. — This tale 

Of fearful news mine ears have just obtain'd 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 283 

From our own temple- warder, who, himself 
Eye-witness, bears upon his blinded eyes 
Unwilling witness of its truth, and now 
Lies in his crypt a-shivering. 

King. Is it thus, 

The Chaldee shepherd, with his brace of guests. 
Hath routed thy Baal-peor, with his host 
Of emblem-bearers ? 

Priest. Tis from this defeat 

That Peer's people, though near midnight hour, 
Tumultuates in madness, young and old, 
Crying for vengeance ; and, with the fierce wrath, 
Passions, and outcries stirr d by this defeat. 
Other alarms are mix'd, sown by the friends 
Of these intruders, how that Death and Doom 
Hang o'er this city, and her dreadful day. 
Decreed by Fate, approaches. 

King. Priest of Peor ! 

Let your own god and goddess look to this. 
If vain night-rumours fray them : — Gather now 
Your temple-men, and altar-men, and all 
Your pomps of priestlings and hierophants, 
And cry aloud, Baal ! save our city j 
Try every mean to deprecate and win him ; 
Gash every limb with lancets and with knives, 



284 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. 

Ev*ii till your blood on your own altars gush, 
Then cry again, Baal I save our city ; 
Forsooth, should he be sleeping, when his folk 
In terror sleep not, he must be awak'd 
To save them : — Go — nor trouble me henceforth 
With such fantastic terrors. — Rather heed 
Thy priest's-afiairs, and con thy matin-song. 
To usher in^ with preparation due, 
To-morrow's festival. 



ACT lY. SCENE I. 

Chamber in Lot's house. 
Angels, Lot. 

1st Angel. These rioters are routed hence ; thy 
doors 
Again are safe, and need no guard : — O son 
Of Haran ! Now prepare thy soul to hear 
Our embassy's chief purpose. 

Lot. Let my lords 

Reveal their mind ; they, who have savM my house 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 285 

Thus by their word of power, miraculously, 
Will speak to my salvation. 

1st Angel. Hast thou here 

In this doomed city any friends besides ? 

Lot. My sons-in-law, the children of the land, 
Who, since I sojourned with the foreigner. 
Marry VI my daughters. 

1st Angel. Bring them straightway out — 
These sons-in-law — these daughters, and whatever 
Thou hast within the city — bring them forth, 
Out of this place, because the Lord hath sent 
Us to destroy it, since this city's cry 
Before th' Almighty's face is waxen great ; — 
Therefore arise, go forth, and speak to these 
Thy sons-in-law, and bid them quit a place' 
O'er which th' appointed rod of wrath now hangs 
Most imminent. 

Lot. Thou bidst, my lord ! and I 
Thy servant hasten to obey — to seek. 
And save my friends. — \^£Jmt. 



286 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

SCENE II. 
House of Hathan. 

Lot, Hathan, Aha rah. 

Lot. Daughter, and son-in-law, arise ! 

Aha rah. O father ! 

What means this haste ? thine anxious look ? this step 
So quick, abrupt, and sudden ? 

Lot. Up, my children ! 

Gather your household, and go hence ! — the time 
Now urgeth, and the mandate from on high 
Commands you to depart, and leave this place 
To perish, with its people ! 

Hathan. Ha ! what mandate. 

From heav'n or earth, touching a point so main, 
Approves itself authentic ? Is thy heart 
Yet quaking with the herdman's tale, sent down 
From Mamre ? — Or have Sinai's visitants, 
Thine evening guests, O father ! with their talk 
So witch*d thee into terror, that anon 
Thou snatchest up thy staff, and wouldst escape 
A danger bred of visions and feast-fumes. 



A DRA^JATIC POEM. 287 

And hearsays slight as the unthinking breath 
That utter'd them ? 

Lot. Meet not, O son-in-law ! 

My warning voice with mockings \^ — I am come. 
Not to discourse, or argue, or receive 
Repulse, but warranted by Heav'n to bid 
Thee and my daughter now arise, and flee 
This place. 

Aharah. O father 1 this thy summons comes, 
(Haply, though bas'd on truth,) yet at an hour 
Unmeet for fleet departure : — Can we leave 
Our home, our gathered household-wealth, exposed 
A prey, disown'd, to spoilers ? — Should thy fears 
Be falsify 'd by th' issue, as we deem, 
What railing, then, what mock'ry from our friends 
Shall vex us, yielding to them ? — Should they prove 
True, as thyself believest, can we leave 
Our friends unwarn'd, unpity'd, unsaluted, 
To meet that doom, from which, convinced ourselves, 
Like cowards we shall sneak, without attempt 
Or wish to rescue, by convincing them 
Of what concerns their beings ? 

Lot. These, thy friends, 

* So Genesis xix. 14. '* But Lot seemed as one that mocked 
unto his sons-in-law." 

T 



288 THE DESTRUCTION OF SOOOilI, 

Contemn all warning, and go revelling on 

At midnight, as by daylight, without pause 

In their life -long career of wickedness, 

Deriding Heav'n and Providence, forlorn 

Of prudence as of virtue : — As I past 

Through their mad city hither, (unobserved, 

Else violently treated), every street 

Sent up its cry ; and what display of power 

Had been by heav'n flash'd on them for their sins' 

Correction, to their senses' injury. 

Now madden them to desp'rate violence, 

And impotence of fury ; — They do rage 

Beyond reproofs or warning's utmost power. 

Ungovernable, irrepressible. 

Save by another blasting stroke from heaven ; 

And that impends — th' uplifted whip of wrath 

Is brandish'd for the blow — therefore, arise — 

Flee, flee, my daughter ! 

Hath AN. Ere thy daughter flee, 

O father ! thoti must, father-like, induce 
Thy son to follow in the flight :— That flight 
Requires deliberation, and must needs 
Be sanctioned by some nobler author, less 
To be disputed, or be warr*d against : — 
What warrants this thy panic ? — Lo ! our men, 



A DRAMATIC POEM, 280 

The citizens of Sodom, dread not ought ; 
But, fearless in their life's stability, 
Send up, as from, an amphitheatre 
Of mirth, their midnight shoutings to the moon. 
As if to make her jocund disk ring back 
Their joy I — Doth Heav'n shew symptom, overhead, 
Of ruinously falling ? doth the Earth 
Tremble upon her pillars ? doth our Sea, 
Fed by the Jordan, leap into the land. 
As discontented with her shores ? — Sea sleeps — 
Heav'n stands — land rests — nought shows disquie- 
tude, 
Save thine own troubled fancy. 

Lot. O, my son ! 

O thou my daughter ! if thou trust not me, 
Trust him, the Mighty, who hath said the word 
Of terrible import : — Be these my fears, 
My soul's anxieties, and deep alarms, 
(Too visible in my so-troubled looks. 
My haste, and hurry'd step), be these the proofs 
Of my paternal care ; — ^be these the test 
Of my sincerity and love : — If these 
Convince not, by what stronger influence. 
May ye be mov'd ? (^Peal of thunder heard.) Hark ! 
Hark 1 the very voice 



290 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Of Heav'n bespeaketli Judgment — Oh ! arise, 
Flee, flee, my children ! 

Hathan {looking from the casement,^ Why — 
all heav'n is clear, 
And shews no clouds ; — 'tis but the casual noise 
Of some false, falling, star, some meteor-stuff 
Exploding o'er the desert ; — we are proof 
To such sky-crackles. 

Lot. If this chiding voice, 

If these my earnest cries, are all in vain, — 
Oh, how may I adjure you more ? — By Him 
Who caird us from Chaldea — 

Hathan. Abram's God 

Should speak, as then, distinctly from his cloud, 
Plain to be understood. 

Lot. Thou mockest me, 

My son-in-law ! — Alas, it is against 
Thyself, thine own dear life, thou mockest me — 
— O daughter, thou dost know thy father's love, — 
Come with me, O my daughter ! 

{He grasps his daughter's hand to lead 
her off,) 

Hathan {ungrasping the father* s hand from that 
of his daughter.) From the husband 

Th' espoused wife may not well part — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 291 

Ah ARAB. My father! 

Urge me not so — when thus my husband wills 
To dare the danger, let me — 

Lot. O my God ! 

Ha^e pity. Lord, upon these abject ones 
Uuto themselves so pitiless — My children, 
The time of grace is spent — I go in sorrow — 
Farewell ! May God in his red hour of wrath, 
Deal mercy to your souls ! — 

[/fe rushetk out. 

Hatha N. *Tis an advice administered, 

No doubt, in kindness, by a mind, most full 
Of love, but over-fraught with fantasies, 
Conceiv'd of dreams, and talk angelical ; — 
No — we must not give way — that were indeed 
To shew us brainstruck also — no, we will 
Abide, unscar'd, at home, and here defy — 
Here, on our hearths — this gloomy prophecy, 
That hath unfix'd his reason. 



2.92 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM„ 

SCENE III. 

House of AcJizan^ Lot's s econd son-in-latc. 

Lot, Achzan (His wife the second daughter of Lot 

■ — mzcta.) 

LoT» Up, up, m J son and daughter ! — leave your 
house, 
And flee I 

AcHZAN. Why — father, what so exigent 
Hath happ'd, that, at this midnight hour, so rash 
Thou rousest us with terrors ? 

Lot. Flee, my children ! 

Nor tarry thus to question, and receive 
The reasons for thus rousing : — 'Tis no time 
Ev'n for relation of the dreadful woe 
That overhangs this place — the time, consumed 
In telling it, would frustrate what should be 
The very end and purpose of the tale. 
The saving of your lives — your lives ! Flee, flee ! 
Abandon house for life ! 

AcHZAN. For life ? — so sharp ! 

And so abrupt ! (To himself) The message savours, 
sure. 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 293 

Of madness ! Yet his troubled countenance 
Bespeaks conviction and anxietj 
Of love in our behalf. 

Lot. Yex not your souls 

With vain enquiries — doubt not — linger not^ — 
— Oh ! by a father's cares, a father's love, 
A father's hopes, I do beseech thee — thus — 

(^He kneels to his son and daughter in the 
attitude of earnest supplication,^ 
Escape the wrath just coming — Flee, flee, flee ! 
Moments are pregnant — flee ! 
No more — I leav€ you with a father's prayers i 
Flee i \JE[e rushes out. 

AcHZAis. Fled, fled himself! as if our earth- 
quak'd roof 
Already were a-toppling o'er our heads ! 
— 'Tis strange — why 'tis a very madness sure — 
Albeit there doth shine an earnestness 
Of purport, in both word and look, that proves 
Somewhat well-founded — cause, obscure but true — 
Mix'd up with his alarm : — Haply, he has 
Too fev'rishly caught up the city-bruit 
Of some disaster nearing. — Ne'ertheless, 
We will not, for a fearful face and word. 



294 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Flee hearth, home, friends, and country. Here we 

bide 
Unterrify'd — nor flee. 



SCENE lY. 

The House of Lot. 

Lot, Steward or Chief Shepherd, Shepherds, 

Chief Shepherd. My lord, at this untimely 
hour, ere yet 
Our shepherd watchman, on his tall field-tower 
Hath with his cornet's sound proclaimed the night's 
Third watch commenced, we have, at thy command, 
Left on the fields our flocks ; and now await. 
Here on thy house^s threshold, what may be 
The bidding of our master. 

Lot. Ye arrive, 

O friends, not yet untimely, nor too late. 
To learn and 'scape the danger heav'n-foretold., 
That threats th' unholy valley. 

Chief Shep. Does my lord 

Dread danger from the children of the land^ 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 295 

Now, for th' arch-feast of their Pentapolis, 
Beneath the dimness of the shame-fac'd night. 
Assembling all in Sodom ? 

Lot. Their arch-feast 

I know, designed to-day, with all its swarm 
Of revellers from the sister-cities five ; — 
— Passed ye that night-swarm, unannoy'd ? 

Chief Shep. As from 

Our cots and sheep walks tow'rd the city-gates, 
We came beneath a stainless sky, whose light 
O'er-mantled this rich valley, every road 
That led to every several gate, rang loud 
With tramp of rushing people, women, men, 
And boys, on camels some, and some a-foot. 
Amid the lustre of the chaste moonshine, 
Bound for the celebration ; all the folk 
Of loose Gomorrha, shouting round the cart 
Whereon their Chemosh they dragged on with ropes ; 
And Admah's and Zeboim's bevies bold 
Of females, carrying in their tabernacle 
Their Succoth-benoth, emblem of the rites 
They mean to practise : — Mingled with that rout. 
Unchaste, and muttering infamous intents. 
We entered Sodom's gates, and found her streets 
With songs and citherns ringing, pipe and drum. 



296 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

A symphony sonorous, welcoming 

The morn which brings that last and lewdest feast 

Which crowns their Three-days' luxury : — througli 

these, 
And through a thousand threats and outrages, 
And imprecations impious, and lewd, deeds 
More foul than foulest night- 

Lot. Wine, lust, and night, 

Gender enormous wickedness — 

Chief Shep. Through these, 

Howbeit, we did pass, unharm'd, untouched, 
(Some unseen angel sure did cover us) 
To thy house hither. 

Lot. May the same good guide 

Around you cast his shield, as hence, again. 
Through the town-tumult, ye return to seek 
Your pasture- walks and sheepcots; — thence with- 
draw 
In haste my herds and flocks ; ere break of morn, 
Let them be seen ascending up the slopes 
Of Bela, and the southern roads that lead 
To the Mount Seir ; drive them straightway on : 
Nor look behind, nor let your eyes hath ruth 
On garment, tent, or tent-stufF, left behind : — 
'Tis God that hastens you ; — Away, fulfil 



A DRAMATIC POEMr 291 

His mandate — save your lives — nor lose the time 
Youchsaf'd for your salvation. 

Chief Shep. As my lord 

Commands, we do ; — The hand of the Most High, 
Possessor of the Heav'n and Earth, that late 
Preserved thee, when the eastern kings o'erswept 
The Siddim-vale with ravening and death, 
Once more save thee and thine ! 

Lot. Flee hence — we meet 

Again by mid-day on the mountains. Flee ! 



ACT Y. SCENE I. 

Southern Gate of Sodom. 

Angels, Lot, Melah, Daughters. 

1st Angel. Here breathe ye, O my friends ! 
Now are we out of reach of Poor's crew — 
In safety have we pass'd the throngs and threats 
Of Sodom's loud night- wandering wassailers, 
Inflam'd with vengeance, wine, and wrath against 
The virtue that rebukes them. 



298 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Lot. Here, my lords ! 

Here, let me bow to you in gratitude. 
Confessing you the guardians, that have led 
(As parents their weak children by the hand) 
Your servants safe, through darkness and dismay, 
Out of the den of danger : — Merciful 
To us hath been our God ! 

1st Angel. As yet the dawn 

Sleeps underneath the lip of heav'n ; — But see, 
The Pleiades are up, and dancing come 
Before the chariot of nigh-peering day ; — 
The light is weak, yet will suffice ; — Go on — 
God shall enlighten you and give you strength, 
As up into the southern mount ye flee 
From these the fire-doom'd gates of Lust and Sin ;- 
Escape then, son of Haran, for thy life ; 
Look not behind thee, neither do thou stay 
In all the Plain ; up to the mountains steep 
'Scape, lest thou be consum'd ! 

Lot. O my lord ! not so, 

I pray — Behold, thy servant now hath found 
Grace in thy sight, and thou hast magnify'd 
Thy mercy, which thou hast unto me showed, 
In saving this my life : — I cannot 'scape 
U p to the mountain, lest some evil thing 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 299 

Befal me fleeing thither, and I die : 
Lo ! now this city ('tis a little one) 
Is near to flee to ; let me thither 'scape ; — 
Is it not, Lord, a little one ? Oh let 
This place receive me, and my soul shall live. 
1st Angel, See now ! — concerning this thing, 
too, have I 
Thy face accepted, that this city Bela, 
(This little city for the which thy tongue 
•Hath pleaded) I will not overthrow. 

Lot. My lord 

1st Angel (Interrupting him,) Enough is 

spoken — haste thou — 'scape thou thither — 
For until thou and thine be thither come, 
We cannot ought perform ; — the stroke of heaven 
Must be till then postponed — speed, speed ! for God's 
Set time draws nigh ! 

(Here the Angels mount upward and 
gradually disappear,) 
Lot. Look ! look ! our guardian-pair 

Have wav'd their wings — and now, lo ! from the 

earth 
Are wafted — gone ! 

Melah. In triumph high ascended 

Unto their home the heavens ! 



300 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Lot. Yea, into 

Th' ethereal chambers of the South, from thence 
To draw their wrathful weapons, treasured up 
Against the day of wrath ! — See how the blue 
Of sky, cleft by the messengers of God, 
Shews yet the fissure, through the which they shot, 
Lipp'd round and round with glory, like the wings 
They wav'd, when soaring through it ! 

Mel AH. O my lordj 

Astonishment and fear overcome my soul ! 
Here now we stand, abandoned and alone ; — 
How may we now, without our heav'nly guides, 
Avoid the overtaking danger ? 

Lot. God will still 
Impart his aids ; he hath commandment given, 
And his commands do not require a strength 
Above the human — Let me take thy hand 

Melah. My feet wax feeble, and my heart is 
faint — 
O let my lord and husband suffer me. 
Here by the gate, upon its welcome seat, 
To linger but a moment's space. 

Lot. The time 

Flies rapid — clamorous is the urgency — 
God's great command hath pass'd. — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 301 

Melah. Oh ! 'twill be 

But a brief pause ; tbe time, how strict soe'er 
Appointed, may afford brief resting space. 

Lot. The time 

Is rigid, and allows no respite — Life 
Is stak'd, and hangs in dire uncertainty, 
On a few well-us'd moments. 

Melah. Hear, my lord ! 

And entertain, a moment, in your heart. 
My supplication : — 'Tis our parting-haste 
And the confusion of the night have made 
My soul forgetful — In my chamber lies 
The Babylonian garment, twin'd with gold, 
Which, on the day thou wedd'st me, in the house 
Of my dear father in Chaldean Ur, 
I wore, and thence have priz'd as my most dear 
And valued ornament — It lies — forgot — 
In my soul's hurry overlooked — I heav'd 
The vesture from its wardrobe out, yet left 
My gold-wov'n gawd behind ; — Oh let my lord 
Permit me — ^but a momentary space — 
Brief respite will suffice — back on my steps 
To hasten, and redeem my father's gift, 
The pride of Babel's looms. 

Lot. Forward — on — 



302 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

It is no time to dally idly thus 
With danger. 

Melah. Spare, my lord — o'erstrain not thus 
Th' angelical appointments ; — on the way 
Precede thou with my daughters — I, apace. 
My purpose done, will follow in thy train, 
Within the time prescribed. 

(She leaves the party ^ and re-enters the City 
gate,) 

Lot. Against this breach, 

Imperious woman 1 my foreboding heart 
Rebels ; yet th' urgent time forbids my tongue 
To loose itself to murmurs : — Let us go. 
My daughters ! — we have lingered here too long. 



SCENE II. 

Front of Abraham's Tent on the heights near Mamre. 

Abraham, Eliezer, Shepherds, &c. 

Abraham, (as proceeding from Ms tent.) Who 
calls me from my tent ? What hath befallen, 
That voices thus so loud, betokening 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 303 

Some chance, or strange variety of hap, 
In house or field, demand me forth ? 

Eliezer. My lord, 

The heavens do terrify us — the just-risen 
And glorious sun, behold, is swallowed up — 
Look, look at yonder cloud ! 

1st Shepherd. It cometh on — 

It swelleth up, my lord — Though small at first, 
A stripe of dusk, low on the ring of heaven, 
It hath spread up — and spreads — May Abram's God 
Defend us ! 

2d Shepherd. Who may at its terror look, 
And tremble not ! 

Abraham. Be not dismay'd, O friends ! — 

Yet, yet indeed, 'tis terrible — ^methinks. 
The hand of God, in yonder thunder-cloud, 
Is forging, for his battle-bow of wrath. 
The arrows of his vengeance. 

Eliezer. From beyond 

The hills of Midian and the Red Sea's arm 
It comes, and in its frightful bosom bears 
Condons' d, Arabia's whole combustions, all 
The torrid fumes and steams upgather'd from 
Dedan, and Mesha, and that Hall of Death 

u 



304 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Scorch'd Hazar-Maveth ; — See how o'er the hills 
Of Seir down it rolls its masses black 
Of vapour, like the ocean's raging waves 
Propeird o'er rocky ledges ; — how its sheets 
Of lightning, volley'd forth from end to end, 
Emblaze the long horizon, and enwrap, 
As with a mantle of red flapping flame. 
The mighty mountains ; — look how down it comes 
On Punon's pinnacle and Oboth's rock. 
Towards king Bera's realm; — its foremost fork 
Of cloud, like to a gloomy promontory, 
Hangs over Luhith, and the Zared -brook, 
Whose channel now receives the torrent-fall 
Of hail-globes ; — round it closes fast and far, 
Tow'rd Nimrim, and the heaps of Abarim 
Eastward ; and, settling o'er the Siddim-vale, 
Envelops it all in, as with a net 
Of many-twisted flre. 

Abraham. Behold, my friends, 

Th' Almighty's preparation ! — See his ire, 
And stand in awe, and sin not ! 

Eliezer. How the noise 

Of the aerial tumult rolleth on. 
Near and more near ! 

1st Shepherd. Happy the man that dwells 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 305 

In safeguard of the Lord of heaven and earth, 
The God that wields the thunder ! 

Abraham. In, my friends ! 

Seek your tents' shelter from the coming storm. 



SCENE III. 

Great hall of the Pantheon -temple in Sodom. 

The Kings of Sodom, of Gomorrha, and of the 

OTHER TOWNS OF THE PeNTAPOLIS, SEATED, WITH 

THEIR Nobles, at the table of their morning 

SACRIFICIAL-BANQUET, WITH WINE, ODOURS &C. 

King of Sodom. Your cups, my lords 1 in honour 
of the gods 
Conjoined, whose worship, and whose sacrifice, 
Here we are met to celebrate ; — Fill high ! 
To Ghemosh, old Gomorrha's god, and Her 
That tabernacles in the silver shrine 
At Admah and Zeboiim ! 

Other Kings and Nobles. Crown it high ! 
To Chemosh, and his sister silver-shrin'd. 
The Lady-god of Admah and Zeboiim ! 



306 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Let the joy circulate from mouth to mouth, 
Till our flushed hearts rebound ! 

(The cloud of darkness comes over.) 

King of Sodom. Ha ! what is this ? — 
— It darkens — sure, the sun begins to flag 
And founder in his race I 

King of Gomorrha. Hath some huge bird, 
Ascending from the Indian ocean, come 
And o'er your city spread his murky wings. 
That thus the air is thicken'd ? 

King of Sodom. Brother-king ! 

Our Peor and Astarte held the sky. 
During their days of honour, fair and clear ; 
But this your Chemosh is a powerless god ; 
His golden lungs possess no breath of pith 
To blow aside these sky-polluting clouds, 
That so confound us. C Lightnings tcith thunder,) 

King of Admah. Ha ! these shotten fires 
Have an unusual brightness ; How they glance 
Adown the pillars, casing them all round 
As with red sheets of gilding ! 

King of Zeboiim. Hark ! the heavens 

Tumultuate round — one universal roll. 
Unbroken by a pause ! 

King of Sodom. Tush — tush — 'tis but 



A DRAMATIC POEM. o07 

Some whirlwind from the south, sent up to greet us 
From Am'lek's v/andering children ! 

King of Admah. Fla^h on flash, 

They fly, and lap the cupola and walls 
With their long, lambent tongues ! 

King of Zeboiim, By heav'n, the house 

Is kindling ! '^I' 

1st Messenger (Suddenly entering,) Fly, my 
lords ! The city-gates 
And city-walls are all on fire ! — They flame 
Like burning torches, and one fiery belt 
Walls in the city. 

2d Messenger (Entering.) Up, up, my lords ! 
Escape — 
The temples of the city from the clouds 
Are smit with conflagration ! Every fane 
Is at its summit lightning-struck — the trees 
That gird Baal-peor's temple, like dry reeds, 
Crackle and burn from top to root— the roofs 
And pinnacles, beneath the which ye sit. 
Are flaming to the heavens ! 

3d Messenger (Entering.) Terror, terror 1 
Destruction stares us all around ! — the walls. 
Roofs, floors, of every house within the city, 



308 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Engender flame, as if inborn — the streets 
Sprout fire beneath the feet of passengers ! 

King of Admah. By all the gods ! it groweth 
here, beneath 
My very feet ! 

King of Sodom. O heav'n ! see, see all round — 
Above — below — a canopy of burning ! 
A hedge of flaming-red destruction 
Impassable ! 

King of Gomorrha. O mercy, mercy, heaven 1 

King of Admah. 'Tis death ! 

King of Sodom. 'Tis death — it draweth nigh — 
'tis here — 
Kings, nobles, people all, one funeral-pile, 
One general holocaust of all the city 1 
City and city's gods — 

King of Zeboiim. I burn ! I burn ! — 

King of Sodom. Flames wrap me all about — 
fir d — fir'd — enveloped 
As with a brimstone-garment — 
No mercy — no salvation — no escape 
Death !— dreadful '.—Death 1 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 309 

SCENE lY. 

Before the gate of Zoar (or Bela)^ situate on the 
slope south-east from Sodom^ and commanding u 
view of the Jordan plain. 

Lot, his {unmarried) Daughters. (To them the 
Shepherds of Lot.) 

Lot. Here stand, my daughters ! — here, through 
heav'nlj grace. 
And heav'nly aids, we are arriv'd — escaped 
The rain of fiery ruin now shot down 
Upon the sinful city ; — yet, alas ! 
One is a- wanting ;— Look ye down the road 
Which we have pass'd — see ye, afar, or near. 
Through the thick gloominess that broods around, 
Your mother coming ? 

1st Daughter. I look far — and near — 
And round — with anxious, searching eye I look ; 
But, O my father ! I nowhere behold. 
Through the thick gloominess that broods around, 
My mother coming. 

Lot. I too strain mine eye, 

In weary search for her I left behind. 
But see her not a-coming. 



310 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

2d Daughter. my mother 1 

Why do thy feet thus tarry ? On thy way 
Hast thou not sped ? that thus our eyes in vain 
Seek thee on thy return ; thou gav'st to us 
Thy promise to delay not — Oh, too slow, 
That promise to make good ! 

Lot. Alas ! my heart 

Forebodes some misadventure : — she is not 
Upon the road — nor on the slope — mine eye 
Wanders defeated in its wish to find 
Her whom we miss, the straggler of our house ; 
Nought in the nearer space, o'er which our feet 
Have traveird, in th' o'er-hanging tempest's dusk 
I see — save — one dim half-discover'd form-^- 
(Methinks — our faithful shepherd, hither bound ! — ) 
Nought in the farther distance, saving fire. 
And surges of black-smoke and cloud ; — in heaven 
Fire toAvards earth descending — on the earth 
Fire towards heav'n ascending ; — all the place 
Where Sodom should have stood, the Jordan-plain, 
Where beauty dwelt, and verdure, one broad blaze, 
As of a forest, or a wilderness 
On fire : — Oh ! yonder, yonder, God is now 
Working his work, his dreadful work ! — 
But see — our trusty serA^ant — 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 311 

Chief Shepherd. (Approaching.) Peace be 
with you 
And thine, my lord and master ! mid such war 
From heav'n against the wicked ! 

Lot. And with you 

Be peace, faithful servant ! — Thou art come 
Last from the plain of Jordan — Hast thou seen5 
Footing the path, or resting in the field. 
The mother of my daughters ? 

Chief Shep. I have seen 

The mother of thy daughters ! 

Lot. Thy reply, 

So brief, and utter'd with that faltering lip, 
Conveys alarm, not comfort. 

Chief Shep. I beheld, 

As I passed by — She, she of whom thine eyes 
Are now in quest, for whom thy daughters dear, 
Heart-sick with weary expectation, 
Xow languish — 

Lot. Speak it, though unwilling, out — 

Break not thy tale with tremblings — 

Chief Shep. my lord. 

And master ! wherefore should thy servant's eyes 
Have seen — have seen the melancholy sight 
Which now my duteous lips must tell ? — A tale 



312 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Of sorrow for my master's house ! — Xo more 
The wife thou lovest shall return — thine eyes, 
Overstrained with longing search, shall ne'er again 
Be greeted with her presence 1 

1st Daughter. Woe the while ! 

My mother ! — 

Alas ! why didst thou separate from us ? 
Our's was the fault, that suflfer'd thee to go 
Back on thy steps — calamitously back 
Upon the danger we forsook ! 

Lot. thus 

To perish ! — 'twas a levity of wish, 
Thy husband, for thine own most dear behoof. 
Should have more sternly check'd and overrul'd ;— 
— To look behind ! to covet ! to go back 
To thine abandon'd vanities ! — thus, thus 
By thine own fond, deceitful, heart, betray'd 
Into destruction direly manifest ! 
Slight the pretext for parting, but, sad 
And heavy, as I boded, its result ! 
Yet, sad as be these tidings, let us know 
What thou hast seen — th' event, in all its points, 
BefalFn of mourn'd disaster. 

Chief Shep. As my lord 

Commanded us, his servants, ere the dawn, 



A iJllASlATir POIIM. SIS 



Uj) Id iii' apparnted moimtaiii-. tifisre ±d ]*b 

Saf^ i^oiL -:ii^ ri^a:^^ mil: siLDnlil soon :r-:L. 

'HJisptti3raL. sre titt dawning briif:^. 
-z_«. .c. .: d and imj>eiiii d their sereral flocks, 
"^mcx UT Zht BteeiJ tiier do"^ vsre dririn^ : — I 
33.flmaiiL d xLt last, i' upmumei and isad off 

Pafit nii: _ : - -r uiain. iierv^^efin 

_ liL" ::: : - ._ -_ -- - ..^ ; — ^.__ :_ ; : i,E 

- _ - T«d. and ^ruf otzviti^ tiieni 

^EVerm i; '.Limiui^i, ai^ . - : ' ':-r>L 

-_ __::i flf lii£ ^ ;-"_ 
_ ~ ^T} it^H " tite fiiiniB-fiiaTing ^atfii, 

by lite iteaT^finlr flasii. 
Fiev up iL> itamfc; unfc mnmfint sej^'d 1' fingird 
Tnt citT Sodom -wjxk ant rin^ of ^am. 
^ ^ ---^ J jont : iisr xem^iisfi, towsTE, and I3'«es, 
domf^-. v^i-nii Iter '^'^^alb' priJcmcBa, 



814 THE DESTRUCTION Ot^ SODOM, 

Like firebrands stood a-blazing : — I did bear, 

As I pass'd by, tbe sound of dying men, 

Women, and children, irredeemably 

Shut up as in a furnace, shrieking loud 

In til* agony short, short, but terrible^ 

The dreadful minute that did separate 

Sweet Life from pang-rack'd Death; — their dying 

shriek, 
The howl of hopeless anguish, that bespoke 
One whole, whole city, fire-engulph'd at once, 
Yet ringeth hideous in my ears ! 

Lot. Alas ! 

Woe for the wicked city ! God hath made 
Her pile great for the fire ! 

Chief Shepherd. Amid these sounds 

And sights, too terrible and racking -sore 
To be endur d by mortal eye or ear, 
Safe and nnscath'd I travell'd on, (the God 
Whose voice is Thunder, and the heav'n's fleet fires, 
His ministers, protected me) : — I cross'd. 
Fast by the gate, the slime-enriched dale 
Where Birsha fell ; — her naphtha-gurgling wells, 
Enkindled by the raging elements, 
Like oil in burning lamps blaz'd high ; I pass'd 
The streamlet- water d gardens, where the men 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 315 

Of Peor wont to sacrifice ; the groves 

Of fig aud olive-trees that lie beyond, 

Now singed and thunder-scatliM in all their tops ; 

And I was come into the Yale of Salt, 

The southmost limit of the Jordan-plain, 

When, underneath the clifi*, by the way-side, 

That stands, hew'd by the chisel into shape 

Of pillar'd beauty, I beheld, alas ! 

Thy consort, leaning (as methought), fatigu'd, 

And resting from her journey ; — I drew near — 

I spake — there came no answer back — she stood 

Speechless and lifeless on the spot — the fire 

Of God had stricken her ! 

2d Daughter. Alas, my mother ! 

Lot. O heavy stroke from God ! 

Chief Shep. There, there, she stood — 

Thine eyes' desire, before me, woeful, stood ; 
Dead, in the attitude of life — her substance, 
Incorp'rate, by the subtile force of fire, 
Into the matter of the rocky salt, 
Whereon she leaned ! 

Lot. a monum.ent, alas ! 

Of heavenly judgment, chastisement from God, 
On such as, in defiance of command, 
Snar'd by this world's cupidities, return 



316 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Back on its follies, and its dangers, loath 
To leave, still longing, lingering still, intent 
On sinful spoil, till the great spoiler Death 
Arrest them in their dallying. 

Chief Shep. My heart, 

O master, with its sorrow, swelFd ! — my eyes 
Shed tears — which yet are flowing ! I withdrew 
Sad from the afflicting sight, and drove my flocks 
Before me to the mountain. 

Lot. 'Tis a day, 

O friends, of sorrow and adversity, 
Even unto us, to whom our God hath given 
Escape from that Destruction, which hath slain 
Th' ungodly in the most high-soaring hour 
Of their impure festivities: — To us, 
The gladness, heav'n- vouchsafed, hath mingled been 
With sorrow, sprung of earth, and earthly thoughts 
Contemning heaven : — Let us consider, then, 
These doings of the Almighty, mark his hand 
Displayed in these afflictions, and this wrath 
Afiecting us, and others ; that t' obey 
And fear him we may learn, and, in that fear. 
Avoid th' abominations and loose rites. 
Among the heathen to their idols wrought : 
For unto us, and to our father's house, 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 317 

These things are an instruction and reproof ; 
And yon lewd cities, in their shame overthrown, 
Are to the world for an example set, 
Suffering this vengeance of deserved fire. 

Ode (By the daughters o/Lot.) 
1. 
Awake my harp 1 Though sad the day, 
Wake to thy melancholy lay ! 
The voice of God hath spoken loud ; 
His fire came wafted in its cloud ; 
The glorious right-hand of his power 
Shone terribly, in Death's red shower. 

2. 

I saw on earth, ev'n face to face, 
His angels, ministers of grace ; 
I saw in heaven, that angel-pair. 
His ministers of wrath and war ; 
I saw them, walking gloriously, 
On the black cloud that filTd the sky. 

3. 

I saw, through the gloom-cumber'd air. 
Their golden girdles glistening clear ; 



318 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

As, from Heav'n's charged battle-bow, 
Thej shot their dazzling shafts below ; 
The shafts came down, divinely aim'd, 
And Sodom, and her sisters, flam'd. 

4. 

Oh day of vengeance ! Day of wrath ! 
Of Desolation and of Death ! 
Brimstone and Burning blast the Plain ; 
Death hath devoured the wicked men ; — 
I too partake my dole of woe ; 
Tears for my Mother largely flow ! 



SCENE Y. 

Heights near Mount Carmel^ {as hefore,^ 

Abraham, Eliezer, Chief- Shepherd of Lot, 
Shepherds and Shepherdesses of Abraham. 

Abraham. My kinsman safe ? 

Chief-Shep. of Lot. Thy servant, sent in haste. 
From Bela, ere the first night-watch was spent, 
To carry thee the tidings, left him safe, 



A DRxiMATIC POEM. 319 

With his two virgin-daughters, near the gate 
Of Bela, covered by the twin bay-trees 
That interlace their branches, and make there 
A tent-like shade. Nor yet thy kinsman's house, 
Amid the general havoc of the Plain, 
Hath felt not of the fury, nor remains 
Unwidow'd, and unstruck ; his spouse, decoy'd 
Back by her worldly love, his sons-in-law. 
Men of the land, that had in Sodom spous'd 
His daughters, scoffing at the heavenly voice, 
That warn'd them off, have met the punishment 
Due to their disobedience ; yet their loss, 
Hath made upon thy kinsman's house a breach. 
Meet for lament and mourning. 

Abraham. Heaven was kind 

To testify the danger ; they themselves. 
In stopping up, like the deaf asp, their ears 
To the sweet voice of Heaven, 'gainst their own 

souls 
Were cruel, and have fallen into the doom, 
Of which they made their mock'ry. — But, O friends ! 
Behold the face of Heaven, how chang'd ! the cloud. 
That carry' d, yester-morn, within its womb 
The fire of devastation, now purg'd off. 
Has left the sky to yonder dripping clouds, 



320 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

As tlieir possession ; — See, o'er Debir's grove, 
Token of love, God's rainbow, in its arms 
Taking the green eartb up, and whispering down 
Calmness and peace, after such wild alarm 
And tumult loudly rolling. — Tow'rd the east. 
Look down, on what was once the Jordan-plain, 
Well- water 'd as the garden of the Lord, 
A vale of verdure, a luxurious lap. 
Whereon both Spring and Autumn, emulous 
Each of enriching most, flung flowers and fruits, 
Profuse beyond profusion's wonted rate ; 
Behold it now, deflower'd, deform'd, defac'd, 
A vale of ashes and of desolation, 
Her olive -groves to dust consumed, her vines, 
Black as an hearth with burning ; all her towns. 
Whose tile-enameird roofs but yesterday 
Sparkled upon her bosom, from their place 
Extinguished quite ; their temples, turrets, domes, 
Become an heap, all black, save where the flames, 
Yet smouldering 'neath the ruins, from the rifts 
Burst out, like water-bubbles on the gurge 
Of some rock-ruffled stream ; — Yet doth their smoke 
Ascend like smoke of furnace — see it rise. 
Curling in folds voluminous, from where 
Gomorrha stood, and Sodom — how it floats 



A DRAMATIC POEM. 321 

Towards both mountain-banks! — the long, low, lake 
From end to end, as far as vision kens, 
Is fiird and chok'd with vapour, rolling up 
Tow'rds the Sea's northern bay. 

Eliezer. a mournful view 1 

Man's pride of glory stain' d ! Alas ! the city 
So costly, so unholy ! In one hour 
Js she made desolate ! 

Abraham. God hath aveng'd 

Himself on her unrighteousness ; to her 
A goodly land he gave, fulness of bread. 
And heart-rejoicing wine ; but she, ingrate, 
Wax'd proud and haughty; lustful Idleness 
Was in her and her daughters ; she did work 
Abomination in the sight of heaven ; 
And sacrificed, to beastly gods obscene, 
Oblations of uncleanness ; therefore God 
Hath taken her away, as he saw good ; 
Nor doth her place now know her ! — In this stroke, 
O friends ! let us acknowledge God ; admire 
His power ; revere his justice ; and rejoice, 
For all the goodness he hath done to us. 
And to my brother's house. — Here, in the sight 
Of God, and looking down, with pious awe^ 



322 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM, 

Upon his field of vengeance, smoking yet^ 
Express, ye Sons and Daughters of my house 1 
Express it, in your songs ! 
(Shepherds and Shepherdesses /orm themselves 
into two choirs^ and alter nateh/ sing.) 

Shepherds. 
1. 
But yesterday I saw, with fear, 
The wrath-charged cloud of God draw near ; 
It came ; it settled o*er the plain ; 
And downward fell the fiery rain ; 
Man's pride of beauty, and his power 
Fell underneath the killing shower. 

Shepherdesses. 
2. 
O terrors of the Lord ! how shook 
The world, in day of his rebuke ! 
His chariots like a whirlwind came ; 
His arrows flew, fledg'd fierce with flame ; 
With fury he discharged his ire. 
And his rebuke with flames of fire. 



a dramatic poem. 323 

Shepherds. 
3. 
O earth, that saw'st his lightnings smite, 
Be thou astonished at his might ! 
Ye that afar are dwellers, hear. 
And tremble at the tale of fear ! 
Ye that are near, approach, and see 
How terrible his doings be ! 

Shepherdesses. 
4. 
Th' Almighty, in his hand, doth hold 
A cup of trembling, mix'd of old ; 
It is of mixture full, the Lord 
Therein his wine of wrath hath pour'd ; 
The wicked drink ; the dregs they wring 
Thereof, that bitter anguish bring. 

Shepherds. 
5. 

Th' Almighty in his hand doth hold 
A cup of Blessing, mix'd of old ; 
The cup is large, and deep, and round ; 
Salvation, Mercy, there are found ; 



324 THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM. 

He to the good extends the cup ; 
They drink the wine of Blessing up. 

Shepherdesses. 

O happy they, who, just and pure, 
Live in the love of Heaven secure ! 
Who fear not — save that God-sprung dread 
That fortifies, not makes afraid ; 
Goodness and mercy, day by day, 
Pursue them on their heavenly way. 

Both Choirs. 
7. 
For me — O never shall my heart 
From trust in Abram's portion part ; 
He is my hope, my stafi", my stay. 
My joy in trouble's evil day ; 
Exult my heart ! Sing loud, my voice ! 
God reigneth, let the good rejoice. 



END of the destruction OF SODOM. 



ENVY-A FABLE. 



As on a summer noontide, round 

My garden glad I walked, 
And with the pretty plants and flowers, 

God*s blooming children, talk'd ; 

2. 

I spy'd in one rich-scented bed, 

Together sweetly set, 
A lily tall, a towering rose, 

A lowly violet : 



3. 
Each spread its glories out, as if 

It wish'd to shine alone ; 
Yet all the uninvidious three 

In sweet agreement shone. 



326 ENVY A FABLE. 

4. 

I said unto the towering Rose, — 
Sweet Rose ! why seekest thou not. 

Where thou may'st gather all thy praise, 
Some unpartaken spot ? 

5. 
The Rose reply'd— I envy not 

What praise each sister shares ; 
Albeit in mine own fame I joy, 

I glory too in their's. 

6. 

I said unto the Lily tall, — 

O ! gentle lily, how 
Amid such gay competitors, 

So sweetly bloom canst thou ? 

7. 
The Lily said — I envy not 

Each blooming sister's praise ; 
The eye that looks on them with joy, 

Glads me too with its gaze. 



ENVY A FABLE, 321 

8. 
I said unto the Violet, — 

Sweet leaf! how canst thou shine 
In thy humility, mid flowers 

O'erflaunting thee so fine ? 

9. 
The meek and richly-spangled flower 

With gentle voice reply 'd, — 
To hear my taller sisters' praise. 

It is my joy and pride. 

10. 
Again at eve, my walk I took, 

Where gay the garden glows, 
And, as the sun sunk in the west, 

In th' east the moon uprose ; 

11. 

The sun, o'ercurtain'd round with gold, 

Was bedding on the tide ; 
The moon, forth from her tiring-room, 

Came peering in her pride. 



328 ENVY A FABLE. 

12. 

I said unto the Sun, — fair light ! 

Why speed'st thou thus away ? 
Is it because thou canst not bear 

Thy sister's rising ray ? 

13. 

The Sun reply'd, — I go because 
Heaven's scale must now decline, 

I do resign the sky with joy ; 
'Tis sister's turn to shine. 

14. 

Again, as Morning's star wax'd dim. 
My garden walk I took ; 

The moon was sinking in the west. 
The dawning sunbeam broke. 

15. 
I said unto the Moon, — fair light ! 

Why speed'st thou from the sky ? 
Dislikes it thee thus to behold 

Thy brother mounting high ? 



ENVY A FABLE. 329 

16. 

The Moon reply' d, — I go because 

With me must go the Night ; 
'Tis not because I loathe to see 

My brother's rising light. 

17. 
That day I pass'd unto the hall 

Where dames assemble gay ; 
Fair flowers 1 how shone they in the dance ! 

How gallant their array ! 

18. 
Their pretty bosoms heav'd, as down 

The dance they tript, and smiFd ; 
But Envy, 'neath the silky gauze 

Lay, like an adder coiFd ! 

19. 
I pass'd into the halls where met 

Sage folks, of letter'd name ; 
But Envy gnaw'd into their souls, — 

Each grudg'd his neighbour's fame. 



o30 ENVY A FABLE, 

20. 

Thus all God's creatures guiltless live 

Of Envy's carking cares ; 
'Tis man alone tbat in his breast 

Th' unblessed canker bears. 

21. 

For me (be thank'd, my gracious God !) 
Some seraph, kind and good, 

Surely hath rooted from my heart, 
A weed so rank and rude ; 

22. 

Whence, I make others bliss mine own, 
With musings sweet and mild ; 

And walk among the sons of men, 
Rejoicing as a child ! 



FINIS. 



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Price 7s. 6d. cloth. 



MENZIES' POCKET GUIDE TO THE TROSACHS 
LOCH LOMOND, LOCH KATRINE, &c. &c. 

18mo, cloth, 120 Pages. Price Is. 6d. 



SELECT VIEWS IN EDINBURGH, 

By Turner, Callcott, Nasmyth, and Blore. 
Ten various, Imperial 4to, in a neat Wrapper. Price 6s. 6d. 



SELECT VIEWS OF LINLITHGOW. 

Five various, Imperial 4to, with descriptive Letter-Press. 
Price 3s. 6d. 

VIEWS OF ROSLIN A STLE AN D OH APEL. 

Five various. Imperial 4to, with descriptive Letter-Press. 
Price 3s. 6d. 

GUIDE TO THE ANTIQUITIES AMD PICTURESQUE SCENERY 
OF THE SCOTTISH BORDER. 

Including Abbotsford, the Abbeys of Melrose, Dry burgh, 
Kelso, Jedburgh, &c. &c. 

By Alex. Jeffrey, Esq. 
18mo, cloth, with Five Steel Engravings, Price Bs, 



JOHN MENZTES, 61 PRTNCE'S STREET, EDINBURGH. 7 

ABRAHAM THE FATHER OF THE FAITHFUL. 

By the Rev. J. L. Adamson, Minister of St David's, Dundee. 
Foolscap 8vo. Price 3s. 6d. cloth. 

" This is a book of healthful piety ; the style is throughout vigorous, and 
the interest of the reader is never allowed to flag." — Patriot. 

«' A really useful book."— Watchman. 

" "We have much pleasure in recommending this little volume.''- -Wes- 
LEYAN Methodist Magazine. 

" As a really edifying devtional work, we esteem its merits to be of a very 
decided kind."- -Edinburgh Witness. 



MENZIES' VIGNETTE VIEWS OF SCOTTISH 
AND ENGLISH SCENERY, 

Highly finished Steel Engravings, in packets containing 
Twelve Views, each done up in an ornamented Wrapper 
printed in colour and gold. 

Price 2s. 6d. each Packet. 

No. I. 
EDINBURGH AND ITS VICINITY. 

No. II. 
THE PICTURESQUE SCENERY OF SCOTLAND. 

No. III. 
THE LAKES OF SCOTLAND. 

No. IV. 
THE LAKES OF CUMBERLAND. 

*^* This beautiful series of Views has been greatly improved, 
some of the subjects having been withdrawn, more po- 
pular ones substituted, and others altogether re-engraved ; 
they are now done up in a very elegant and entirely 
novel style in iUitminated wrappers. 



NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY JOHN MEN2IES. 



MILLINGTON'S MORAL TALES FOR THE YOUNG. 

Containing Original Tales of every land, and Anecdotes of 
every age and nation, illustrated by Etchings on Steel by an 
eminent Artist. 



Price 4s. 6d. fcap 8vo, cloth. 



A W0R3 OH TWO ON FORT WINE! 

Addressed to the British Public generally, but particularly 
to Private Gentlemen ; shewing how, and why it is adulte- 
rated, and affording some means of detecting its adulterations. 

By a Resident in Portugal for Eleven Years. 

12mo, sewed. Price Is. 



SCOTTISH COSTUMES. 

Imperial 4 to size, beautifully Coloured, with appropriate 
Scenery in back ground. 

1. A HIGHLAND CHIEFTAIN. 

2. A HIGHLAND PIPEPv. 

3. A NEWHAVEN FISHERWOMAN. 

Price each, 3s. 



HICK'S VIEWS OF EHINBUROH. 

Engraved on Steel, in Ornamental Fancy Wrapper. 
4to. Price 5s. 6d. 



LRBS'Z] 



